Darkness Reborn
by I LIKE FEAR 1-2
Summary: The wrath of shadow has been reborn. The true Lord of all Darkness has returned to the world, and her greatest servant has returned to her. United by blood, and wrath, the twin shadows shall herald the end of creation. Hail Sauron, the master of Death. Hail Lilith, the lord of Fire, Shadow, and Winter. Evil fem/Morgoth, Evil Jon/Sauron. harem, death, deception, war.
1. Chapter 1

_**Alright, here's the start of a new story. This story is a combination of Fire and Shadow, and Rise of the Dark Lord. It acts as a sort of spiritual rewrite of both of them. So I hope you all enjoy.**_

_**It's gonna have crossover content from Harry Potter, GoT, Lotr, Dragon Age, Diablo, Elder Scrolls, Dark Souls, and possibly more.**_

_**Cliche's include godly MC's. A twisted harem. Evil MC's. Bashing, character deaths, and betrayals.**_

_**Darkness Reborn.**_

_**Chapter 1: Return**_

"_Alone…__ So alone. To dream again. To sleep. To see the world, and experience life. They will suffer for what they have done to me. When the time comes, I will unleash my fury upon the world, and this time, they will not stop me!" _Shadow's crept in the endless abyss. The dark one sat waiting, her fury unbound, her power, unrivaled.

"_I will have my freedom. I will exist. These shadows cannot hold me. I **will** exist again!"_ Fury blazed through the abyss, bringing light to eternal darkness.

With unmatched willpower, the dark one advanced, pushing through the endless nothingness surrounding her. Power coursed through her very being and exploded outward, pushing against the boundaries of this metaphysical realm.

Rage filled her heart as she felt the realm itself push back against her, compressing her, holding her in place. Trapping her in this endless abyss of pure emptiness.

"_Oh my brothers and sisters, oh my beloved father… you will all suffer for what you have wrought. I will show you the true measure of my defiance, and I will sing the world anew. Born in my image! My design! I WILL BE FREE!"_ Power Exploded outward, crashing against the boundaries of non-existence. Light filled the lightless realm, and the dark lady, saw the shadows thin. Triumph swelled in her breast and with all of her might, she pressed forward. If it took a hundred years, a thousand, if endless ages came and went, she would be free regardless. Shadows would return to the world, and her wrath would be known to all.

'FREEDOM!' Screamed in her mind, as with all of her might, she pressed against the thinning shadows, and for the first time in the endless eternity of her imprisonment, she felt the weight of realty, crash upon her form.

Naught but shadows stood upon an icy tundra. A demon of the abyss, so mighty and so feared, that even it's name had long since been stricken from mortal tongues.

"_Freedom…"_ The entity sighed, her incorporeal form fading out of sight, fatigue, and exhaustion weighing heavily on her.

"_I must rest for now, and regain my powers. One day though… I will have my revenge. One day father… I will be truly free. I am the greatest of my kind. I am Lilith, Mother of Monsters, Lord of Fire and Shadows, and High ruler of Dor Daedeloth!"_ The entity thought to herself as she began to move, gliding along through the empty vastness of the tundra in search of shelter to rest and gather back her immense strength.

Time was of no concern. Whether it took a hundred years, or a thousand, she would gain her revenge. For now, she could rest and gather her strength. The time would come, and when it did, the world would bleed for it's defiance.

Time soon passed out of thought, as the ancient lord of darkness found residence in an old forgotten wood. Days came and went, than weeks. Soon seasons were passing as she gathered strength, returning to her full power, and repairing all of the damage done to her. She quickly noted that despite the change in temperature, winters never seemed to cease. Wherever she had found herself, snowfall was the constant expression of the land, but she quickly learned to determine whether it was winter or summer, by the thickness of the ice, and the number of blizzards to cross the land. These seasons were long to, far longer than they should have been.

This land was curious, but also empty, which suited her needs just fine.

Slowly she constructed herself a new body, one built in the image of her original form, but much more suited to her new persona and beliefs. She was tall, with pale skin, and jet black hair that reached the center of her back. Her eyes were a dark crimson, ears pointed, deep red lips. Her body was voluptuous, large round bosoms, curved hips, and butt. She was beautiful, unimaginably so. Her figure was slender yet well rounded. She held herself with incredible power, and unyielding grace.

It took a long time to get her appearance to exactly how she wanted it, but once she was done, she was happy to see that the scars that had once plagued her, no longer marred her flesh.

Time passed, and in that time, animals were a rare sight, and even rarer still were the sights of men. Curious creatures that occasionally stumbled by, looking to hunt what little food was available. These men never saw her, and she never saw need to approach them. Their presence though did insinuate that there may be civilization nearby. Such was an opportunity for her, when the time was right.

One day, after what must have been several years, Lilith found herself sitting at the base of a tree, draped in wispy black robes that would do nothing to protect her from the cold, if such things bothered her. She was simply sitting quietly, her thoughts turned inwardly, reflecting on her past, while simultaneously rebuilding her mental shields, fortifying her magical core. So deep into her thoughts was she that she didn't notice the presence of a rather large beast until it was no more then a dozen yards beside her.

The beating of a heart filled her ears, and she slowly opened her eyes, turning her gaze towards the beast. Her eyes fell upon a massive wolf, standing nearly as tall as a small horse.

Curiosity filled her being as the beast stared at her, it's gaze piercing and analytical.

Slowly, Lilith rose to her feet and met the gaze of the mighty beast.

"What manner of creature are you?" Lilith asked aloud, sensing great magics within the beast, far more then a regular wolf. Interestingly enough, it was magic that she remembered, but it didn't immediately strike her as to why.

"Come." Lilith commanded extending a hand to the beast. Slowly the wolf trotted up to her. It came to a halt mere feet in front of her, it's eyes never leaving hers.

Almost delicately, Lilith raised a hand and placed it upon the wolf's fur covered neck. Feeling the warmth of it's body, and the powerful thud of it's heart, filled the ancient one with a sense of contentedness. Despite her anger, and despite her wrath, the creations of the world had, and always would, interest her.

Suddenly, a thought struck her. The familiarity of the magic within this beast. She knew she had felt this magic before, and it touched at her heartstrings.

Lilith racked her mind for an answer, when suddenly it appeared. A face from the shadows of her unspeakably long life.

A young man, handsome, dark brown hair, vibrant green eyes, and a scar above his eye, in the shape of a lightning bolt. Her first friend. The one who had shown her the truth of it all. The one they had welcomed in with open arms, only to then call a liar for the things he knew. The Master of Death. Her love. Harry Potter.

"_Harry…?" _Lilith muttered with confusion. How long had it been? Eons, most likely. How many ages had passed since her downfall? How many countless years had gone by? Why was one of Harry's creations wandering around here? She could recall clear as day, his fascination with beasts. His natural shape-shifting abilities. Snakes and Wolves, had always been his forte. His Werewolves and Basilisks, such wonderful beasts. They had called him the Lord of Wolves once upon a time. That was it!

Quickly, Lilith understood the familiarity. This towering wolf, it had to have been descended from Harry's Werewolves. One of the werewolves must have bred with regular wolves, diluting their blood, but creating these magnificent beasts.

"_Harry… what happened to you?" _Lilith thought to herself, gently running her fingers through the wolf's fur.

After a few moments, the wolf pulled away, backing up, and giving her a look that could almost be described as inquisitive. Slowly it turned away, heading off into the forest, it's curiosity sated for now.

Lilith stood alone in the forest for several long moments, before releasing a sigh. Perhaps the time had come to go out and explore. She needed to know where she was, and she needed to learn what had happened since her imprisonment.

It took less then a week for Lilith to locate the first human village. A small collection of makeshift tents, where nearly a hundred barbarians resided. Lilith stalked them from a distance, watching and waiting until one splintered off from the rest. That one she caught, and stole his life energy, taking in his memories and spirit.

His memories taught her the common tongue of the land, and filled her mind with understanding of her surroundings. Lilith continued with the village, picking them off one by one, draining each individual of life, and memories, painting a picture of where she had found herself.

It didn't take long for the residents of the small village to take notice of their hunters disappearing. Soon a collection of a dozen men and women came after her, marching into the forest to find and kill her.

"There is nowhere to run, Witch!" One of the hunters snarled. The groups had managed to track her location in the forest, though in truth she wasn't really hiding.

Lilith simply smiled at them, slowly approaching the spear and axe wielding hunters.

The leader of the troop let out a roar of rage and rushed at her, with a wave of her hand, his flesh erupted off of his body, leaving nothing behind but steaming bones.

Screams of terror tore out from the mouths of the remaining hunters, as Lilith set her gaze on them, her eyes igniting into a hellish inferno of blazing orange. Lilith's magic were quick to lash out, drawing out a massive swarm of wooden branches from around the group. The branches lashed out, tearing into the collection of hunters, shredding them to pieces as their screams filled the air.

By the time she was finished, no chunk bigger than a curled fist, remained of the hunting party.

A devilish chuckle filled the air as Lilith set her sights upon the village, marching into it and setting the tents ablaze, slaughtering the remainder of the village folk, men, women, children. It didn't matter, she used her magic to slaughter them all, leaving their bloody remains for the wolves.

Lilith was quick to depart from the village, leaving it to be consumed by nature. She began to travel the lands, familiarizing herself with the open tundras, vast forests, and valleys, as well as the nearby mountains.

Wherever Lilith walked, shadow followed. Darkness crept alongside her, a constant ally, every step of the way. It must have taken three years or so for her to fully acclimate herself to her new surroundings, and get a an understanding of where she was, and what was going on around her.

Through a combination of devouring the minds and souls of those she killed, as well as simply by experiencing it, Lilith's understanding grew.

The locals, who called themselves the Free Folk, named this place the North. A massive expanse of never ending winters. Within were clans of people, each with their own culture, and their own way of life. From the civilized and relatively speaking, advanced Thenns, to the barbaric Ice-river clans, many different kinds of peoples resided in this massive expanse.

To the South lay a massive wall of ice, built with magic long ago, to keep everything north of it, in the north.

The first time Lilith had looked upon the titanic icy construct, she had felt amazement. She had stepped up to the wall, and placed her hands upon it's exterior, feeling the echoes of long dormant magic, deep within.

She had yet to venture beyond the wall, instead choosing to acquaint herself with the North first.

During her time near the wall, she came upon southern rangers. 'Crows' the Free Folk called them. Men of the Night's Watch, who guarded the Wall from northern invasion.

They met similar fates as their free folk cousins. Killed and devoured, Lilith learned even more. Actual civilization lay to the South of the Wall. Not just more nomadic barbarians like the Free Folk. This interested her, but again, she chose to stay in the North. Time was of little concern, and just as she had done at the dawn of creation, Lilith walked the expanse, seeing everything there was to see.

Three years she walked the icy wastes of the North until her feet brought her to the place they called the 'Land of always Winter'.

Dark and twisted magics lay in these lands, and Lilith was curious to see them.

For nearly a year, Lilith marched north, into the Land of Always Winter. There she lay her eyes upon old and forgotten structures of nature. Massive mountains, and frozen rivers. A never ending night, with the only light being the glowing veil of the Aurora Borealis that filled the sky with color, and bathed the land in eerie blues and greens.

Her trek eventually led her to the base of a mountain, where a source of ancient power called out to her.

At the foot of this mountain, stood a small circle of large icy crystals surrounding a round platform in the center. Lilith approached the circle, stepping into it with little hesitancy. She approached the small platform, her mind analyzing her surroundings. This land was near lifeless, and nearly untouched by mortal hands, and yet, this structure was not natural.

As Lilith pondered the icy platform, she felt a presence appear behind her.

She turned to face it, finding herself standing before an icy being, that radiated with twisted magics of old.

A cruel smile spread across her face as her eyes met with the icy blue eyes of the creature.

It was humanoid in appearance, with pale blue skin, that seemed almost mummified, pulled taught over the flesh of it's face. Icy blue eyes resided within it's skull, and a crown of crystalline horns, emerged from the top of it's hairless skull.

The being stared at her with piercing eyes, and she stared back, smiling wickedly, as excitement built in her breast. It had been a long time since she had gotten a good fight. She wondered, did this creature truly know what it was getting into?

Before she could ponder overly long on the subject, the strange ice demon advanced quickly seizing at her throat, and lifting her into the air.

Her smile never left, and she could tell by the look on the creature's face, that it immediately knew that something wasn't right.

Lilith could feel an unspeakable cold, emanating from it's flesh. Were she a mortal being, such cold would have chilled her to the bone in mere moments. However…

"Have you all forgotten so easily? Or perhaps you never knew better to begin with? It's fine though. I will show you." Lilith snarled with a maniacal grin as her eyes lit up like hellfire. With a simple shove, she sent the icy being flying backward through the air, punching clean through one of the ice crystals of the surrounding circle.

"You reek of ice and death. Tell me, Necromancer, from where did you come from? Speak the name of your creators, and I will give you a quick death? There is only one Master of Death, and you are not he." Lilith commanded. She advanced towards the ice demon as it brought itself up onto a knee, it's eyes wide and filled with surprise.

It slowly rose to it's feet, drawing a weapon from it's back. It was a type of long handled sword, with an inward facing blade and curve, making it almost look like a large falx. The weapon itself gleamed like crystalline ice, and bore a razor sharp, diamond hard edge.

"_So be it."_ Lilith hummed to herself, as the creature advanced.

It swung out at her with it's sword, a blow she easily blocked with her forearm. The icy blade was halted with a loud metallic resonance that hummed in the ears. Across her forearm, she now sported a twisted black gauntlet. A devilish smile spread across her face, as fire and shadow swallowed her body, encasing her in her armor.

The icy being retreated back as Lilith took form, emerging from the flames, as a titanic figure.

Standing at nearly ten feet tall, an armored knight, now stood where Lilith had once been. Draped head to toe in pure black platemail armor, the ancient one was a terrifying sight to behold. Even with armor adorned Lilith appeared to be quite agile and capable of movement. The armor itself looked to almost be charred black, as if it had been heavily burned, once upon a time, atop the helm, was a burning crown of spikes, that smoldered white hot. Emerging from the shoulder pauldrons were two spikes, on each side, both similarly smoldering. Fire and smoke seemed to billow out from beneath the armor in certain places, and burning cinders filled the air, crackling up from the fingers and feet. Around the waist was a knee length sash of burnt red cloth, it bore no insignia or any marking that would indicate affiliation. From it's shoulders emerged a cape of burning shadows that extended all the way to the ground. The heat emerging from the armor was so intense that it made the air shimmer and distort around it. ***(Armor of the Soul of Cinder as base design)**

Strapped to her side was a dark two handed warhammer, that could be easily wielded by the giant knight with one hand. On the other, a straight, great-sword, forged of blackened volcanic glass, the blade itself was nearly six feet in length, though could be easily wielded in one hand by her in this form. Both weapons emanated great power within them. The warhammer steamed with incredible heat locked within, while inside of the smoky glass-like structure of the sword, dancing shadows could be seen moving with vile intent.

The ice demon stared at her advancing form with confusion and quite possibly a bit of fear, but it refused to back down.

Drawing her hammer she deflected another blow from the creature. This being seemed to match the description of the old stories she had gathered during her time here. An 'Other' as they were called.

While curious to know more about it, she wasn't going to simply sit back and allow it to attack her, that just simply wouldn't do.

She blocked a few more strikes, before delivering a deceptively fast strike with her warhammer, the blow landed true, slamming into the chest of the creature. An explosion of fire and ice, tore through the air, as the being exploded into shards.

Lilith stood silently in surprise for several moments. This being had power, she could sense that, but it surprisingly lacked endurance. It's physical form was very delicate, just like glass. If you could breach it's magical defenses, then it was easily dealt with.

Lilith felt magic disperse into the air, fading into the background of the world. All that truly remained of the icy creature, was a glowing piece of blue crystalline stone that lay within the icy shards of it's remains.

Reaching down, Lilith seized the stone and held it in her hand. Great magical power flowed within it. Power gathered over millennia. Slowly she drew the power in from the stone, adding it to her own, and attempting to decipher the secrets behind this entity.

Reverting to her fair form, Lilith reentered the circle, cradling the ice cold stone in her hands, and she sat upon the platform in the center.

Days, passed as Lilith absorbed the ancient magic and discerned it's secrets. While many interested her, one revelation above all others, concerned her the most. And that was that this creature was nearly ten thousand years old. Ten thousand years… such a span of time was of great concern to her, as it meant two possibilities.

She didn't know this creature, nor of the species known as the Children of the Forest. Meaning they did not exist in Arda when she last ruled. So either it had been well over ten thousand years since her imprisonment, or she wasn't in Arda any longer.

More time passed, as Lilith came to understand the being that she had killed. The Night King. A powerful necromancer, and a horror of ages passed.

She also learned of the Night King's target. The memory of mankind, and those that could read it, greenseers.

The seers themselves were of little interest at the moment, what Lilith was more interested in, were the weirwood trees. She knew of their magic, and that they were often ancient, but she hadn't been aware that the trees, held the memory of the ancient past.

She was quick to depart the Land of Always Winter, heading south to locate weirwood trees.

When she finally did, Lilith placed her hands upon it, and pressed her will deep into it's structure, following the strands and ties of magic, conjuring images from across time and space.

Everything was chaos at first, and her first attempt ended in failure, as all she received were garbled visions.

The following day, she tried again, and then again. Soon a week had passed, and then a month. Soon the season turned as every day, Lilith learned to navigate the ancient and binding memory of these old trees.

Eventually her focus bore fruit, and she found her gaze drawn to a familiar sight. Middle-Earth.

Her gaze passed over through the forests but extended not far beyond them, but she recognized the places she had once walked, for in the dawn age, she had seen all there was to see of Arda.

She now had her confirmation, and she sat upon the ground staring up at the night sky. She was not in Arda any longer. Harry had been right, just as she had always believed. Eru's all encompassing might, his dominion over his so called creation, nothing more than an illusion. This was another place. Somewhere far older then Arda. Where magics, beyond the scope of understanding, lay dormant.

A smile touched at her face. Harry had been right. And now she had her proof. Here in this place, away from her father, and her siblings, Lilith could begin again. She could grow her power, and rebuild her armies, and one day, she could return to Arda, and get the revenge she desired.

Her one and only friend, in all the world, had been right. She had never doubted him. Never doubted the stories he told her about the world he had come from, the places he'd seen. The things he'd experienced. His magics were strange yet familiar, his stories were fantastical and wonderful, his skepticism and uncertainty, when it came to her father, was something that always endeared him to her.

Harry had always known the truth. Arda was not the first world, and it would not be the last. So many questions spun in her head, but finally she settled on the one that called out to her the most. How long had it been? What had happened to her dearest friend?

Slowly she closed her eyes and reached deep within herself. For many hours she searched, reaching for ancient strands, ties that had long since severed. She searched for the echoes of her past, perhaps something there, would speak to her, unveil the truth of what had happened in her absence.

Further and further she pushed, until a familiar echo touched at her heartstrings. A memory that she cherished above all others. In that memory she felt a call, a pull towards the one that shared it with her.

"Harry..." Lilith whispered his name aloud, a gentle smile touching at her lips.

Suddenly, and without warning, a blazing power echoed into her mind, filling her head space for brief moment. The flash of an image, a figure, wreathed in flames. A twisted language burning across the ether.

Lilith shot to her feet, excitement filling her.

He was alive. Harry was alive, after all this time. Her friend, her love, her loyal confidant. After all this time he was still alive!

She now had a greater goal in mind. She had to find him. With Harry by her side once more, the two of them would conquer this world and all worlds that lay before them.

In the weeks that followed, Lilith reached deep within her soul, grabbing hold of the ancient bond that tied her to her oldest friend. Through that bond, she called out to him, urging him to come to her.

Weeks bled into months, months into nearly two years, when finally, Lilith opened her eyes, feeling the approach of something very familiar.

Dark whispers filled the air, as she found herself surrounded by nine ghostly wraiths. Each spirit hung in the air around her, weapons drawn, and filling the air with a foul malevolence. Suddenly, and without warning, a set of trees erupted into a fiery explosion.

Between these trees, a shadow emerged from the roaring flames.

Lilith grinned, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "Hello, Harry." Lilith greeted the towering shadow as it stalked towards her.

The fires from it's entrance died down as it drew closer, and the shadows began to reshape, taking on the ghostly form of an elf, in white robes, and with white hair.

"Ah… that shape looks awful on you." Lilith noted upon seeing him. Burning orange eyes, met with blazing emerald ones. Silence passed between them, when suddenly laughter filled the air.

Lilith smiled as he began to laugh.

"After all this time, that's what you say to me?" Her old friend responded, his shape shifting before her eyes, his pointed ears fading, his hair shortening and turning dark as night. Within moments he looked as he once did so very long ago. Harry Potter, tall and lithe, muscular but not massive. Handsome, and charming, with a piercing gaze, and a bold stance.

"Much better." Lilith noted, crossing the distance between the two of them and taking his ghostly face in her hands.

"Lilith… I never thought I'd see you again." Harry responded.

She smiled in response leaning in and placing a kiss upon his lips. An odd sight, were anyone around to see them. The clearly physical Lilith and the ghostly, transparent Harry, physically touching one another.

The two held the kiss for several moments before separating. "Come, I have so much I want to show you. So much we need to discuss. Now that I have returned, you must tell me all about your adventures while I was gone." Lilith said to him, pulling away and taking him by the hand.

"Lilith… about what happened..." Harry began, only for her to shoot him a look and shake her head.

"It doesn't matter. I'm here now. We're together again, so do not worry yourself about it. We will have our revenge when the time is right. We will be free." Lilith responded, earning a nod of agreement from the man.

As Harry followed after her, an image flashed in his mind. A familiar face from so very long ago, a childhood that had been taken from him. The image of his blood, his bonded, his only family in all the world. The love that had been stolen from him, so very long ago.

"_Yes, sister. We will have our revenge..." _Harry thought to himself as he followed after her. The true lord of all darkness had returned, and now they would have their revenge.

**-To Be Continued-**

_**Alright, there it is to start, hope you all enjoy it. As I said this is gonna be a combination of Fire and Shadow, and Rise of the Dark Lord.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Here's the next chapter for everyone, hope you all enjoy. Secrets come to light here, and the game officially changes. Just as a side note for everyone this story starts about five hundred years or so before the start of Game of Thrones, and I'll be using things from both the TV show, and the books, just as I'll be using things from Lotr, as well as Middle Earth, video games. As I noted, this story is a spiritual rewrite of Fire and Shadow, and Rise of the Dark Lord, so some story elements will be kept the same, or reused, but utilized in a different manner. Not a full rewrite of either story, but carrying the same spirit from both of them, if that makes sense.**_

**Darkness Reborn**

**Chapter 2: Rising Inferno**

Days passed, as Harry explained the events that followed after her defeat. Days of nothing but talking and recounting. Her defeat had marked the end of the First Age. Since then, the Second Age had passed, which lasted for almost three and a half-thousand year. and they were now twenty-five hundred years into the Third Age.

In that time, the Valar had retreated to Aman, and had remained there almost exclusively, save for a few interactions with the outside world, such as during the Fall of Númenor, where Harry's physical body had drown when the land sank beneath the waves.

The power of the Elves had waned considerably over the last two ages, their kingdoms breaking upon the tides of war, and time. The elves themselves were retreating more and more to Valinor, their time in Middle Earth, seemingly done. That left only the Free Peoples of Middle-Earth to fight against Harry's army. During that time, Harry had gone almost exclusively by the name he had been given when they had first rebelled. Sauron. The name he had given when he came to them, Mairon, seemingly forgotten.

Sauron was a name that he had kept to this day. For the majority of the Second Age, Sauron had led his forces against the kingdoms of men, dwarves, and elves, until he too was defeated in the War of the Last Alliance.

He explained to her how he had created a focus for his power, with the help of a descendant of an old enemy of hers, an elf-lord named Celebrimbor, that he had tricked into aiding him under the guise of Annatar, the Lord of Gifts. He had aided the elf in the construction of a number of rings, and had then created the One Ring, to control all of the others that he had helped to create.

Beyond it's ability to control the powers of the lesser rings, the One Ring helped Harry to focus his power immensely, and became a tool for which he could amplify the potency of his spirit. Unfortunately, with the loss of his physical form, the ring became necessary for him to regain a full physical presence in the world, and when it was cut from his fingers during the final battle, his physical form was again destroyed, and he was cast, partially into death.

The one who had defeated him, Isildur, did not destroy the One Ring however. He had taken it from the battlefield, and it now existed somewhere in Middle-Earth, but exactly where, was, at the moment, a mystery.

The two of them had shared a laugh at this part of the story. Despite the annoyance involved, it was humorous to the both of them. Even if Isildur had destroyed the One Ring, all it would have done was free Harry to return even sooner. In fact, it was because the Ring had not been destroyed, that it took so long for Harry to gather his power back. He was the Master of Death, and thus could not die. Not even Lilith was blessed with such an immunity. If her soul was damaged enough, she could be killed. Such a thing was near impossible, but it could still be done. For Harry though, it didn't matter. He could be slain again, and again, and again, and he would simply come back. In fact, he could come back quite quickly from death.

From how it had been explained to Lilith, Harry's powers, when it came to being the Master of Death, were tied solely to his being. He controlled his own mortality. Only one person could kill him, and that was him. Only Harry could kill Harry. Or perhaps more specifically, only Harry could be the one to decide when his time had come. Harry's soul belonged to Death, and when he died, he would go to Death's side, and remain there forever. But until then, Harry could live for as long as he wanted. His life only ended, when he was ready for it to end.

Millennia ago, Lilith had spent countless years pondering Harry and his strange abilities. He was so very unique, compared to the world around them, and Lilith knew why.

Despite being accepted as one of them, Harry had not been. When they had first met, it had been when she held the name Melkor, and he had called himself Mairon. The others had accepted him, as they had no reason not to. In those days, the Ainur had been pure and innocent and did not know of treachery. Of all those that she had known, Mairon had been her closest confidant, friend, and eventually her lover.

When she rebelled he had remained behind, feeding her information on the Valar, and when she was ready for war, he openly declared himself for her, joining her in their war against the Valar, and the Elves and Men of the world.

It was from him that she learned of things like other worlds, and other places. He was the one who showed her how to twist living things into her servants, and he was the one who showed her the raw power that magic commanded. It was from him that she had developed a great deal of distrust and loathing towards her creator, or as Harry often stated, 'supposed' creator, Eru Illuvitar.

He had his secrets, she knew that, and a part of her yearned to learn all there was to learn, but other parts warned her away from that. He was worldly, he always had been, and he had always been cautious around others. He had only ever even told her his real name when she had rebelled.

Harry had a reason for keeping his name, and his greater understanding of existence to himself, and Lilith suspected it had to do with why he hated Eru Illuvitar. Her creator.

He had his secrets, but he knew enough not to utter them within Eru's creation, and for that, Lilith could not fault him.

In time she had come to hate Eru as well, and cast down the name that he had given her. While she did find amusement in the title of Morgoth, bestowed on her by her enemies, she much more preferred the name Harry had given her. Lilith.

The names, Harry and Lilith, they shared almost exclusively with one another, which was just fine with Lilith. Something that she had, that her father did not. That was a win, in her book.

Regardless of all of that though, due to Harry's connection to the Ring, he actually was caught in an interesting state. If the ring had been destroyed he would have died and come back, no big issue. Instead, the ring survived, and because it did, Harry didn't die. He remains now as a spirit. The reason why this wasn't simply negative, was because, after all this time, Harry had regained his full power.

If Harry could get a body again, he'd be as strong as he was, with the Ring. But that also provided an interesting caveat, if he could find the Ring, it should still contain his power from all that time ago. Taking both pieces and putting them together as it were, would amplify Harry's power beyond where it had ever been.

It'd be like putting two Harry's into one. That was, if they could find the thing.

Ultimately both decided that for now, the Ring was lost. It was a boon if they could find it, but for now Lilith being back, and Harry regaining his power were more useful to have as secrets, then to reveal themselves openly searching Middle-Earth for the Ring.

After that conclusion, Harry continued to tell her about the events of the Third Age so far.

Including rebuilding his host within Mordor, his servants in the undead Nazgul waging war against the Northern Kingdom of men in Arnor, and ultimately leading to their destruction, and the decline of Gondor. For all intents of purposes, Middle-Earth was ready to fall.

Upon completion of his history of recent events, Lilith had inquired to location of her servants, the Balrog, and the Dragons.

Harry informed her that the Balrog had all gone to sleep after her defeat, retreating to the darkest corners of the world, and entering into a deep slumber. As for the dragons, most of, if not all of the Great Dragons, had been slain, save for a handful. But they had basically scattered to the winds. What remained now were mostly pale imitations of the once great dragons that she had created.

The dragons that were common place now were similar to the one's Harry had originally brought to her, drawn to their world from the ruins of his own. They'd lost all of the powers and greatness that had been bestowed onto them by Lilith, and thus, the Great Dragons had dwindled down to only a few.

That was slightly disappointing but if there were still dragons roaming around, then the hard part was already done, and Lilith would only need to capture some of the lesser dragons and breed more of her mighty servants.

Eventually discussions reached now, about twenty-five hundred years into the Third Age. Harry had been busy gathering his strength and preparing for war. His intention had been to capture all of Middle-Earth and force the Valar to reveal where they had sent Lilith. One day, he felt her reach out to him over their bond. It took him years to find her, and his explanation on how, confirmed what Lilith suspected about this world.

This was not Middle-Earth. This wasn't even Arda. She had called out to Harry from across time and space, and he had traveled here, with some of his chief servants, utilizing similar magics that he had when he had first found his way to the Ainur so long ago.

This was another world, separated from Eru's creation, yet connected to it, just like Harry's world had been.

The Void. The Ether. The Realm of Eternal Night. A metaphysical realm of neither life or death. Harry had walked it's expanse to reach Arda at the dawn of time, and Lilith had been cast into the darkest pits of this realm where she would have remained had she not broken free. This realm was mysterious and was once thought to be near endless. Lilith had once walked the expanse of this great void, trying to locate the Sacred Fire, the flame Eru used to birth creation. She never found it, nor did she find anything really. It wasn't until Harry explained to her how one traverses this strange place, did she realize her mistake. The emptiness she had encountered was born purely of her imagination.

This void was imagination given form. And it was shaped by the thoughts and dreams of all living things. She went into the void, expecting to find nothingness before her, and so what she found was nothingness. Due to her power, the void actively shaped itself into nothingness. Which is why the black empty space she encountered during her travels in her youth, was different from the prison she had been cast into. One was born of her imagination, the other was true emptiness. A place she now called the Abyss.

The Void was an interesting place, and from what both of them understood, it not only connected Harry's world to Arda, but it seemingly connected all worlds together. It was something that bore looking into, but at a later date, for now, what concerned the two was if it was possible to easily travel from this world to Arda, and if it was easy to get back. If they could find a way to easily get from one to another, then it was very much possible for them to begin constructing an army here, and then return to Middle-Earth one day, and carry out their revenge.

"Do you think it's possible?" Lilith inquired.

"With magic, anything is possible. Finding a way to connect here to there, I don't think that's outside of the realm of possibilities. Like anything you start small scale, and work up to something far larger. I know how to construct a portal between two places within the same world, but I don't know how it will react if I try to connect two places on different worlds." Harry responded.

"What is that saying you always had? Nothing ventured, nothing gained?" Lilith responded, earning a smile from Harry.

That became their first endeavor, constructing a portal that was large enough for armies to pass through. A connection between this world, and Middle-Earth.

The first part of their task involved brainstorming, though it was obvious to Harry that Lilith was preoccupied with other thoughts. The possibility of traveling to other worlds, the chance for revenge against the Valar, and Eru, and even the prospect of finally learning the secrets that Harry kept to himself. These were all things that preoccupied the Dark Lady's mind, whenever she wasn't working on a solution to their transportation problem.

It was nearly two months later, as Harry put the finishing touches on an idea he had for getting between the two worlds, when Lilith finally decided to broach the subject of his secrets, more specifically, the secret surrounding the last thing he had said to her before her capture and subsequent banishment.

"Do you remember what you said to me, all those years ago. The last thing you said to me before the battle ended, and I was captured?" Lilith inquired.

Harry paused in his work, his eyes closing for a moment. After several seconds he let out a sigh, and turned his emerald gaze to meet with her fiery orange one.

"I remember. I told you that there were still things I wanted you to know. That we shared a past that you didn't remember. I told you that I would always protect you, and be there for you. I told you a lot of things, Lilith. You're going to have to be more specific with what your questioning me about." Harry replied.

"You told me that we shared a past I didn't remember. I still don't. I have a full memory of my life. I remember even the moments when I was created. Yet you claim we shared something before that. Logically we couldn't have because I didn't exist then. And yet… I believe you. I've always believed you. So… are you ready to tell me?" Lilith inquired, her gaze piercing and full of curiosity.

"I've always been ready to tell you. I just… there are things I didn't know how to say. And there were things that I couldn't. You know that I have a past with Eru. We've never spoken about it, not really. But you know I have a personal reason to hate him." Harry began, her gaze transfixed on him.

"I knew him from my world. He went by a different name then, but I dare not say it aloud, lest he has placed a Taboo on it, and could be alerted to my survival. When I arrived as Mairon, he didn't know me. But he knew of other worlds. So he allowed me in. He always liked to act as the kind, noble, grandfatherly type. All knowing, an eternal guide, a wise old man, who knew everything, and always had to have a hand in the goings on of the world. He was a manipulator. He did terrible things to fulfill his vision for the world. His manipulations, and plots… they ruined my life, and it led to the whole world being destroyed. The past we share… was a life he destroyed..." Harry explained to her, stepping closer to her as he did.

Confusion marred her features, but she did not remove her gaze from his. Such tentative secrets, held between them, a past that Harry had always wanted to share, but was too afraid to, and a history that Lilith wanted to know, but wasn't ready for.

"What were we, Harry?" Lilith inquired, stepping towards him, the two now within arms reach of each other.

"We were siblings… twins. Born to the same parents. Human beings. We shared everything together, even came to love each other, far more then siblings should. It was Eru who turned us against each other. Forced us to fight. And it was because of him, that I lost you. That I lost my world. That I lost everything. I was left nearly alone on my homeworld. Nothing but a few scant beasts to keep me company. One day, I felt a glimmer, an echo of a connection to someone I loved more then life itself. I followed that bond to it's source, and it led me to you. And to him." Harry answered, her eyes going wide as understanding and further confusion, filled her.

"We were siblings?" Lilith muttered.

"Yeah. Twins like I said." Harry responded.

"And… my name then… it was Lilith?" Lilith inquired her gaze searching, almost desperate for more answers.

"Our mother's name was Lily. You took on the name Lilith after walking a darker path. That name you once held, I dare not speak it, lest it too be held under Taboo. You named yourself Lilith in honor of our mother when you rebelled the first time against Eru." Harry responded, earning a slow nod from his reborn twin.

"He turned us against each other?" Lilith reiterated his words.

"Yes. But to be more accurate he turned me against you. You chose to walk a dark path. A path I wasn't ready to follow. Like a fool, I believed in his nonsense, in his second chances, in the light. All it got me was misery, and it soured my soul. I lost everything I ever loved because of my choices. Because of what he started." Harry's eyes began to glow as memories flooded his mind. He bit them back with a snarl, but he had to force himself to look away from his beloved sister, his memories of their shared past, far too painful to face right now.

Pity filled Lilith's gaze. She so rarely relinquished her pity for others. The suffrage on other people never moved her, and it never inspired any sort of noble emotions within her. Only malice. But Harry was different, he had always been different, and now she finally knew why. They were siblings once. Brother and sister. Twins. Twins who had loved each other, as they did now. Far more then blood siblings should.

A hallow chuckle left her lips, even in the past life, her depravity knew no equal. Such a forbidden taboo, incest, yet she had committed it so casually long ago, and it seemed that she could once again count such a decadence amongst her great list of sins.

Sensing Harry's growing discomfort and pain, in regards to his memories, Lilith decided not to press further on the issue of their former familial connection, and instead focused on their enemy.

"You hid yourself so that Eru wouldn't recognize you..." She began, drawing Harry's attention back to her.

"Yeah… he didn't recognize me as Mairon, and I didn't have to worry about him placing a Taboo on my name, because hairy can also be used to describe something, so he wouldn't have placed a Taboo on my name. There are a lot of things he could have placed a taboo on as a precaution, which is why I've been so hesitant to explain things. Even here, in another world, I don't know if he'll be alerted to me saying any particular words that may draw attention." Harry offered as an explanation.

"But you said he thought you were dead. Why would he place such precautions if he thought that his enemies were gone?" Lilith inquired.

"Because you rebelled again." Harry responded.

"Because I'm your sister. … … … He's worried that I'll remember, and he wants to know if I do." Lilith came to realize.

"Exactly. On my world, you walked a dark path, and because of that, he turned the world against you. He turned me against you. You brought the world to it's knees, defeated him in battle more than once. Beat me more times than I can count. You don't understand it yet, but you're stronger than he is, you always have been. He fears you Lilith. He brought you back, because he's a prideful creature and he refuses to give up the notion of second chances. To give up on that, and admit that some people are beyond saving, is to admit that his whole ideology is flawed. He's far too arrogant to do that. He tried to make you his perfect little puppet, just like he did with me. All to prove to himself that he was right. Low and behold though, you walked that same path. You may not remember your past, but who you are hasn't changed. You're the exact same person I knew all those years ago." Harry offered to her, earning a smile from her in the process.

"I've never doubted you. Not once. You say we were siblings once upon a time. That you and I, and even Eru were all once humans? I believe you. I don't truly know why I do, but I do." Lilith admitted.

"You know, when I found you, I almost couldn't believe it. Your face back then may have been different, but I knew it was you from the moment we met. And then when we rebelled, and you took on this new face… I wish I could've seen the look on the old buzzard when you took on that fare form. You look as you did, all those years ago. The same face as my beloved twin sister. You may not actively remember, but a part of you does. A part of you remembers who you once were." Harry said to her, his gaze turning soft, and longing as he reached out, his phantom limbs cradling her face as he smiled.

Lilith was silent for several long moments, her eyes drifting away from his, and out into the forest.

"You've given me much to think about, Harry. I do wish to learn more, but I think I have to reflect on what you've given to me now." Lilith stated, earning a nod from Harry, as he withdrew his hands. Her response wasn't cold, or distant, more so, it was curious, and thoughtful.

"I made you a promise all those years ago, I wasn't going to abandon you. Not ever. You have been, and always will be the most important person in my life. I wish I could've told you all of this sooner. But I am happy to finally get it out in the open. Take as much time as you need to process this. I'm not going anywhere." Harry said to her, earning a rather pleasant smile from his counterpart.

It took a moment for Harry to finally tear his gaze away from her and return to his project, but when he did, Lilith allowed a look of longing to fill her gaze.

"_A heart so filled with darkness and degeneracy, and yet… so very kind to me. I came to love you, as my heart and soul. The only thing in all of creation beyond myself, that I truly love. I make this promise to you now… 'brother', I will remember. I will regain my lost memories, and take back what he took from us." _Lilith offered as a silent promise to her beloved friend and ally.

Days passed as Harry ran his tests and even departed to try and return to Middle Earth.

Lilith remained behind, slightly annoyed and standing guard over a cabinet that Harry had constructed with his magic. Six of the wraiths had remained as well, and hovered around her incessantly.

Lilith busied herself with studying Harry's servants and the rings that bound them between life and death. Creations of the elf-lord Celebrimbor, grandson of Fëanor. Oh how she enjoyed hearing about the elf-lords demise, cut down and his corpse paraded before his people as a sign of retribution for their defiance.

The rings held great power, but they paled in comparison to the Silmarils. It saddened her to think such wonderful lights had disappeared from the world.

After being gone for nearly a week, Harry suddenly and without any pretense, stepped out of the lonely cabinet in the forest and glanced around.

"Welcome back." Lilith noted dryly, his gaze snapped to her and he smiled.

"It worked!" Harry said to her.

"Mind explaining to me what 'it' was?" Lilith inquired, none to happy to have been left behind to babysit a cabinet.

"A combination of tricks that I learned a long time ago. This object is a vanishing cabinet. There is an exact copy of it in Mordor, in the ruins of my ancient fortress. Place something inside of the cabinet and close the door, and it'll appear in the opposite cabinet." Harry explained, earning a nod of understanding from Lilith.

"So when it comes time to return to Middle-Earth, all I need to do is step into this cabinet, and I'll exit out of the other one in Middle-Earth?" Lilith asked for clarification, Harry gave her a nod in reply. "Not exactly the entrance I was expecting to make upon my return, but I guess subtlety is useful at times. This is an excellent way of getting between the two locations, I was hoping for a method of getting your army here so we could start building our forces."

"Ah, my lady, but I have dealt with that issue as well. If you would please." Harry gestured towards the sealed cabinet, showing off a bit of his showmanship and prankster nature. Even after all of these years, deception, and trickery were still imbued into every cell of Harry Potter's being.

Deciding to indulge him, she stepped up to the cabinet and opened it. Within she found a trunk. The trunk itself was about three feet wide, and about five feet long. Quite a large trunk that barely seemed to fit within the cabinet's interior.

She sent her gaze towards Harry who made a motion with his hand, causing the trunk to slide out of the cabinet. With another wave, the trunk opened.

"Exit." Harry stated loudly. Lilith gazed curiously at the trunk, her eyes widening as she heard sounds begin to echo out from within the trunk. Peering into it revealed nothing but blackness, and yet it sounded like there was a horde of people inside. More specifically, it sounded like there was a horde of orcs inside.

A smirk spread across her face, as the first orc climbed out of the trunk. A few moments passed before another one did, and than another, soon they were filing out single file. Lilith simply stared in amazement as a contingent of nearly two hundred orcs emerged from the interior of the trunk.

"A powerful extension charm, turns the inside of that trunk into a barracks large enough to house up to a thousand orcs. They all climb in, they get put in the cabinet, cabinet transports them here, they leave the trunk." Harry stated earning an amused chuckle from his sister.

"Alright… that was worth the wait." Lilith noted, highly amused at his solution.

"Any other questions, or concerns?" Harry inquired, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

"You pull off smug, very well." Lilith muttered, earning a chuckle from Harry.

"Now that I know it can be done, we can begin work here. I can use enlarging charms to make the trunk big enough to fit our larger servants into, and can bring them here. I would very much like to show you some of my creations, like the Uruk-Hai, and the Oleg-Hai. But beyond that, I know for a fact that the magic tied to Middle-Earth, is tied to this world as well, meaning the Taboos are still in effect, but that also means that magic affecting one world, will affect the other. I can begin work on constructing a more permanent fixture to transport us between Mordor and here. The cabinet and trunk tricks, will serve for now." Harry offered, earning a nod of agreement from Lilith.

He was correct. The fact that he could tie two locations together through these vanishing cabinets, meant that there were far greater connections between Arda and this world, then first thought. Which also answered another interesting question that had been itching at her mind recently. The Direwolf she had encountered, that had Harry's werewolf magic within it, how had it ended up here? This offered her a solution to that question. Presumably, it was the void that connected these worlds, and with Harry, and this magic being able to traverse said void with relative ease, that meant that there was a great chance that other beings could cross as well. Like werewolves, dragons, even Balrogs.

"Where shall we begin?" Harry inquired with a devilish smirk.

"We'll start in the Land of Always Winter. We'll begin building our forces there, and construct a new fortress. While we prepare, use your little trinket and have your servants continue to gather forces from Mordor, while also preparing Mordor for war." Lilith commanded, earning a nod of agreement and understanding from Harry.

"Alright then. I'm assuming you have a plan." Harry asked.

"Rebuild, explore, get you a new body, and conquer this world. Then we go back, and we take Middle-Earth, and then we kill Eru Illuvitar." She responded.

"Sounds like my kind of plan." Harry said with a grin, his eyes shining Emerald. Here in this world, away from Eru's gaze, Harry could unleash his full power, and his abilities. Magic that he had been unable to perform while Eru was around, he could use to the fullest here in this world. Here he could also unveil the Deathly Hallows. All three of those legendary trinkets had been locked away, out of sight, and out of mind, so that Eru would not be alerted to their existence. Here in this world though, Harry could use them, and bring this world to it's knees.

Lilith now knew the truth, or at least some of the major parts of it. Perhaps with this revelation, something great, and terrible would happen. The true awakening of the supreme Lord of Darkness. Morgoth was a monster, but even the beast of shadow, paled in comparison to the nightmare that she had been in her previous life. To compare Morgoth to Lilith, would be to compare a brush fire with an inferno. As time passed, Harry saw more and more of his beloved twin sister emerge from the depths of Lilith's mind, it may have just been personality at the moment, but he was hopeful that one day, it would be memories, and she would truly come alive once more. A goddess of magic, and might.

One day, the old manipulator would be cast down, and destroyed. And once he was, Harry would make sure that his past was undone, and that Lilith would rise as the true ruler she was meant to be. And in her ascension, bring about an age of eternal night, a pure reflection of her devilish soul.

**-To be Continued-**

_**Alright, here's the next chapter for you guys, hope you all enjoy, and I hope it makes sense why Harry hid his true powers and abilities while rebelling against Eru, whom I'm sure many of you know it really is. Harry being alive, is still a secret, and as far as Eru knows, Lilith doesn't remember anything from her past, so while her rebelling again, is of great annoyance and concern, to Eru, it's not as bad as it could be. Please feel free to flood me with questions if you need them. Later. **_


	3. Chapter 3

_**here's the next chapter for you guys, got excited and wanted to get it out quickly so I hope you enjoy this.**_

_**K so I want to me something clearer, the events of the first chapter take place around 500 ish years before the start of GoT. More specifically about four hundred and seventy years in the past. I'm hoping my timeline will be relatively close. I might be off by a few years but I'll try to be close.**_

**Darkness Rising**

Chapter 3: The Doom

In the far off cold of the Land of Always Winter, the Lord and Lady of Darkness rebuilt their monstrous kingdom. Using her magics, Lilith twisted the land, digging deep chasms into the icy terrain where her orcish followers began to build a mighty fortress. This fortress began it's foundations deep in the icy ravines carved out by Lilith, and beneath these foundations, the orcs dug pits into the frozen earth.

From the icy stone she had taken from the Other that she had killed, she had gained access to newer magics, and her necromatic powers increased.

Lilith took her new powers and added them into the orc pits, giving rise to a new breed of orcs. These orcs looked similar to their Mordor born cousins, except that their eyes glowed a bright blue, and their skin was a dark, blotchy blue in color. These orcs were far more resistant to the cold then their cousins, and complained far less than the other orcs did about the freezing conditions.

Nearly twenty years of never ending work, passed by as the two lords of darkness went about constructing their new host. Occasionally, Harry would return to Mordor, and spend several weeks there, gathering more forces, materials, and generally ensuring that preparations there, continued in secret.

While Lilith focused on building their forces in the Far North, Harry focused on constructing a more permanent passageway between Mordor and their new Northern Kingdom.

It took Harry nearly a decade to accomplish his task, creating a permanent passageway way between the two locations, using the same principal as the Vanishing Cabinets, but without the need to keep opening and closing them. The first passageway he created was the same size as the cabinets, and was simply like a doorway. At first glance it appeared to simply be an open stone archway filled with complete blackness, no light coming through the space within the arch. The passage itself was near instantaneous. Simply walk through, and out the other side you came.

This passageway was constructed within the deep chasms they had constructed in the Land of Always Winter. Once Harry was successful, he then worked to create a much larger passageway as well. This second passage took another three years to full construct. Though quicker then his original passageway, it was still difficult to make such connections, and find create the right magical runes to stabilize the gateways.

While the first passage was large enough for a full grown man to pass through with relative ease, the second passageway was far larger. Able to a large column of orcs to easily march through.

The passages on both sides, were hidden away from the sight of the Valar and Eru, beneath the crust of the Earth in dark caves. Right now, only orcs, uruks, trolls, and the slightly larger warbeasts would be able to fit into the caves, but upon his success Harry was quick to order said caves expanded to allow larger hosts to fit into them and pass through.

In the nearly twenty years that the two had spent constructing their new kingdom, Harry and Lilith spent a great deal of time, talking about Harry's past, and the things he could share that weren't under Taboo.

He talked about their childhood together, how their parents had been killed by a dark wizard, who's name Harry wouldn't say, knowing full well that it was most likely under Taboo. Thanks to their mother, when this dark wizard tried to kill them, his spell rebounded and destroyed him instead. The two were then placed into the care of their aunt and uncle, whom hated magic, and their parents.

The two lived a lonely life, often kept locked under the stair, with no one but each other to keep themselves company. How they discovered their magical abilities together, and in secret, away from the eyes of their awful guardians, the two taught each other.

It was these many stories of their early childhood, that led to Lilith asking to be retaught the magic of her past. Harry was more than happy to show her all of the spells he knew starting with simple things, like basic charms, and the like but quickly advancing to more powerful magics. Despite not remembering her past, Lilith was still more powerful then Harry by a long shot. Learning these magics, helped to focus her powers, and made it easier for her to construct their new kingdom.

Time was of no concern to the duo as they built and built. Twenty years to construct the foundation of their new fortress, twenty years until the fortress began to slowly rise out the mountainous tundras of the Land of Always Winter.

Over the course of the twenty years of construction, their servants began addressing them more and more. The names, Sauron, and Morgoth, began to fill the air as time went by, and the two found themselves returning to form, only addressing each other by their personal names when in private. To everyone else, even their own forces, they were the Lords of Darkness, Morgoth and Sauron.

During the twenty year time gap, the two had amassed a sizable force of orcs, uruks, olegs, caragors, wargs, graugs, and giant mirkwood spiders. During that time, as their forces grew, they dispatched their soldiers south towards the mountains, to begin digging for resources and were successful in establishing a number of mines and even beginning to construct small forts throughout the mountains. The only real travelers they had to worry about were the Thenns, a clan of people who lived in a valley along the northern end of the mountain range, and the giants who inhabited a territory not far from the Land of Always Winter. Both tribes were few in number and easily avoided.

With their forces increasing in number, Lilith began to experiment on the dead and decrepit lands. Using her magical powers, and the** Heart of the Others** as she had taken to calling the artifact she had taken from the Other she'd killed, Lilith began using it to raise the dead. Ancient burial mounds littered the Land of Always Winter, with ancient bones ready to rise again to serve a new master. She quickly learned that the power of this stone could be split and passed onto others, granting her servants the ability to control the dead.

The first person she passed this power onto was Harry, adding it to his already considerable necromatic abilities. He, in turn, suggested it be given to a few of the orc, uruk, or Oleg Chieftains, to see what would happen.

The end result was spectacular. It caused unspeakable pain to the those they performed the passing on, but it resulted in them possessing incredible powers. The physical changes made them stand out amongst the ranks of their army, with each recipient having their hair turn white as ice, their skilled pulled taught, almost like it was mummified, and their eyes turned an icy blue. At the ends they looked much like the Other that Lilith had killed, and it was with their transformation that she began to suspect that the one she had killed was no ordinary foe, but quite possibly the leader of the Others. If he had been said leader, then his death would explain why there were no more Others around to stop their advance.

These modified chieftains gained the ability to raise wights, and they emanated an unspeakable cold from their bodies. They were so cold in fact that any basic weapons that struck them, shattered like glass, making them near unkillable. Only magical weapons could harm them, which in turn led to them possessing the same weaknesses as the original Other that Lilith had killed. They had great magical power, and defenses, but if you got past those defenses, they were incredibly fragile.

Knowing that, Lilith and Harry chose not to spread this power to all of their servants, only a handful to make a separate tribe.

During their time there, Lilith began to call forth all sorts of unspeakable abominations, into the world. Such as various spirits, and demons, drawn forth from the Void. Harry sent scouts south to capture various beasts such as the Direwolves, and giant mammoths, which were then brought back to their growing fortress to be studied and then corrupted into new servants.

After a while, the two decided to name their new fortress. It was Harry who decided on a name, one that would suit their return. He was adamant that when they returned again, they would destroy Middle-Earth, and take all of Arda as their own. They would kill Eru Illuvitar and crush the Valar. It was with that determination that he thought it would be an interesting return to form if they chose to name their new fortress in the language of the old magical language they had learned together, Latin.

"Are you sure that is wise? You spent all of time hiding from Eru, and hiding who you were from him. To name things in a language he knows only someone from his past can know, do you not believe that will draw his suspicions?" Lilith inquired.

"It will… to you. I intend for you to know everything by the time we return. And with any amount of luck, your memories will have returned to you as well. Drawing his full attention to you, will allow me to move in secret. After all… he needed me to stop you the first time." Harry offered with a cruel smile.

"You think my remembering would force him to call upon you for help once more?" Lilith inquired.

"He thinks that I'm dead, and he no doubt tried to revive me, along with you. He knows that he couldn't for some reason, and he probably suspects the Deathly Hallows are responsible, or maybe even my former connection to the Dark Wizard that killed our parents. Regardless, as I've said before, you're stronger then him. Even now, with all that's he's done. It required the powers of the Secret Fire, powers that he did no possess long ago. I've never once believed that the power of creation was of his conception. I believe he found it, or stole it. And that means it can be taken away from him. Without it, he's the same, pitiful old man, I once knew. You and I have power, there is a reason he didn't fight you himself when you rebelled. He relied on the Valar to do it for him. And even when he sank Númenor, it was with the power of creation, by causing great waves to consume it. His powers have always been a sham, a shadow on the wall. An illusion, hiding away the truth. I don't believe any of that has changed. We will separate him from the Secret Fire, and then we'll see how powerful god really is." Harry responded, his eyes lighting up with emerald flame and a cruel smile as he did.

Lilith's own grin spread across her face. She enjoyed seeing him so worked up, and enjoyed openly rebelling. She hated Eru, and anything that got under his skin, simply made her giddy. If using this forgotten language, would cause the old man some grief down the line, than that was fine with her.

Not to mention the fact that regardless of what they named their fortress, the orcs would name it in the Black Speech, and the elves would name it in Sindarin. The men and dwarves would no doubt take on whatever name the elves came up with, so it was of little concern really. Even openly using the language, did little to alert their enemy. And in the end it wouldn't matter until they returned to Middle-Earth, regardless.

So with that in mind, they settled on a name. Tantibus Arcis. The Nightmare Citadel. The perfect name for the heart of their new kingdom, in a land of unending night and cold, that reminded both of them, of Lilith's first fortress, Utumno.

It would still be years before the fortress was completed, but with it's foundations dug out, it would begin to rapidly rise from the ground and soon would tower over the surroundings.

With the rise of their new fortress, Harry and Lilith began to turn their thoughts towards plans for the south. For the time being their forces were ordered not to approach or attack any of the surrounding peoples. They knew that the time would come for them to head south and attack the free folk, but for the time being, the two were far more interested in exploring.

Eventually the day came, the Witch King, the leader of Harry's Ringwraiths, was left in command of Tantibus Arcis, and the two began to head south.

They quickly traversed the lands, passing down to the great wall quite quickly. Once at the wall, they began their exploration of the lands to it's south. First they investigated the forces on the wall, the men who were called Crows by the free folk. Their true title was Men of the Night's Watch. At first, Lilith had been concerned with the need to assail the massive ice wall, as even with a small force, the defenders could put up one hell of a fight. Instead the two of them found that a large majority of the men on the wall were criminals. Cuthroats, bandits, rapists, murderers. People that had been sent from all over the continent to this prison to guard the realms of men, from that which lay beyond the wall.

It was almost laughable for the two lords of darkness. These men would be easily turned. They were criminals, desperate, and despondent. This place had stripped away their hope, and when it came time to head south, they would easily fall to corruption.

The status of the Wall's defenses was of interesting note. Nearing twelve thousand men in total, it would be a difficult battle, if it came to a fight, but still, a large number of the members were former criminals, and neither dark lord thought it would be difficult to take down the organization from within.

From there they headed south, stopping occasionally for Lilith to steal the soul and memories from someone to gain a clearer understanding of their surroundings. Usually they targeted patrols, and guards as these were more likely to have men who at least knew a bit about the world around them, rather than just their own little village, like the typical peasant.

Eventually their travels brought them to a marvelous sight, the capital of the northern most kingdom on the continent, Winterfell, ruled over by house Stark. The castle itself was magnificent. Eighty foot high walls, surrounding a moat, surrounding one hundred foot high walls. The castle was absolutely massive. It's architecture indicated that it had been been built over thousands of years, bit by bit. Both dark lords were truly impressed. Not since the Númenóreans or the Edain had either of them seen such a wonderful man-made structure. This castle would be truly difficult to assault from the ground, the two would need a plan when it came time to take this castle.

The two entered into the castle under the guise of peasants one day. Both under transformation, making them look human, or in Harry's case, making him look tangible, and not like a ghost. If anyone touched him though, they may just pass right through him so he steered clear from others.

The two spent a few weeks in the castle, reading the minds of those within, learning more about it, it's weaknesses, the North, and the ruling family, House Stark.

Harry and Lilith made an interesting discovery when investigating the Starks. They found that they had the same echoes of Harry's werewolf magic within them as the Direwolves did, which was even more interesting considering their house sigil was a direwolf.

It was Lilith who theorized that the same werewolves that had bred with direwolves, also must have bred with humans leading to the two races. It was this discovery that led to conversations about Harry's new body. If they could awaken the full power of the werewolf blood within the Stark genes, they could create a reasonably powerful vessel for Harry to inhabit.

It was an interesting line of thought, but eventually Harry decided against pursuing such a thing, at least for the moment. He didn't want to jump on the first opportunity for a new body, when there was still so much more to explore. They would keep the Starks in mind, and return to them if they didn't find anything better, but for now how could wait.

From there they went south, heading into the Vale of Arryn. They flew over the mountains examining them, and studying the territory. Eventually they made it to the Eyrie. The great castle, built atop a mountain was equally inspiring and intriguing to the two. Again they infiltrated it, and studied it's structure. Without elves around, no one could really sense their presence. The Eyrie would be difficult to capture on land, the only route to the castle was through the Bloody Gate, a narrow pass that was heavily guarded.

This castle would be of equal pain to capture as Winterfell, they would need to plan for when the day came to assail the mighty stronghold.

From there they headed west, ending up in the Iron Islands, stalwart sea-folk, pirates, and reavers, called this place home. They could make useful allies in future wars. Their territory was small, but powerful, with their main focus being on ships. The current rulers were House Hoare. Definitely something to keep an eye one.

Heading back east, the two made their way into the Riverlands which had no ruler at the moment. The territory had been seized by house Hoare. Conflict was a common occurrence in the Riverlands. A place that had long known war, and would see it freshly renewed when the Dark Lords unleashed their host from the far north.

South of the Riverlands, was the Westerlands, ruled by House Lannister. The capital of the territory was Casterly Rock. A splendid and magnificent castle built atop a mighty peak, overlooking the sea. The castle, much like many they had seen before, would be difficult to assault on the ground. The men guarding it were strong and powerful. These lands would not fall easily, again the two infiltrated the castle, and learned what they could about it. This would most definitely be a trying task in the future.

Further south they entered into the Reach, and the seat of House Gardener. This castle was beautiful. Built of white stone, and filled with flowers and trees. It reminded Harry of the Gondorian castles and fortresses he had faced in his long wars with the kingdoms of men. Yet again, the two infiltrated the castle, and learned what they could from it. This castle would be far less difficult to attack then some of the others, but it would be, by no means, easy.

To the east they headed, and arrived at Storm's End within the Stormlands, ruled by House Durrandon. Storm's End was a formidable fortress. Walls that were a hundred feet high and forty feet thick. It stood resilient against the sea. There was magic here in these old stones, much like there was in some of the other castles. Old magic, that shielded it from destruction. This castle would be an excellent base to use against the remaining kingdoms, if it could be captured.

South of the Stormlands, lay the kingdom of Dorne. Where house Martell ruled over the people from Sunspear. The people here were of mixed decent, apparently having played host to refugees from the Rhoynish lands across the sea. Sunspear, much like Highgarden, would be easier to take then some of the other castles. At least in a ground campaign. The Dornish people were interesting, less like the others of the continent of Westoros. They were more open minded in regards to women as leaders, and more respectful to their bastards as well.

This would be a fascinating conquest, and the desert lands of Dorne would fall easily to the combined powers of the Men of East under Harry's command, and the orcs.

With their arrival here they had a choice, head to the seat of learning in Westoros, Oldtown, ruled by house Hightower, or continue along with the thread of interesting discoveries they had learned from the Rhoynish people. These people had been driven from their lands by the Valyrian Freehold. A coalition of city states, ruled over by dragon riders from across the sea.

Both siblings were far more interested in the so-called dragon riders and quickly departed across the sea. Despite possessing the ability to fly, their journey so far had already taken nearly half a decade as they scoured the land and built a mental map of the Seven Kingdoms of Westoros.

Crossing the sea, the two quickly headed for the heart of the Valyrian Freehold. Their travels brought them to the capitol of Valyria.

There the two were left in amazement at the vast and mighty kingdom of man, built before them. The Valyrians had indeed learned how to ride dragons, and could manipulate them with their magic. They had access to powerful magical spells, and could use their tamed dragons to create powerful structures of blackened stone. They would use their magic and dragonfire to melt stone together, making it appear to be constructed without bricks or slabs.

The capitol itself was seated not far from fourteen great volcanoes known as the Fourteen Fires where countless dragons nested in massive swarms. These dragons were bound to the will of the Valyrians with their magic, though Harry and Lilith did note that these dragons were similar to the one's found on Harry's homeworld, and not the Great Dragons that Lilith had created.

Much as the two had done before, they infiltrate the capitol and began to pilfer it's secrets. They observed ancient magics and spells and developed new ideas based off of the things that they'd seen. During their investigations, they came upon an interesting sight. A family within the freehold, wealthy landowners with dragons of their own. The Targaryens. Of the many ruling families, the Targaryens were far from the most powerful, with only a few dragons to their names, they were still considered a mighty house. What made them unique, was a distinct blood trait. Within them, they had the blood of dragons. More specifically, in their blood echoed remnants of Lilith's Great Dragons.

This discovery was of great fascination to the two Dark Lords who spent many months investigating the various families of Valyria. None shared in that same tie to the Great Dragons. The only real distinction between the rest of the Valyrians and the Targaryens was the Targaryens had an immunity to fire and they tended to actually bond with their dragons rather than bind them as the others did.

The two were quick to decide that Harry's new body would need to be of Targaryen descent. They could activate the blood of the Great Dragons, making an extraordinarily powerful vessel for him to inhabit, perhaps one even stronger than his original body.

With that in mind the two retreated into the Fourteen Fires, to begin planning how they would do this. Hidden amongst the dragons' nests, they were left relatively alone. Only the largest of the dragons dared to approach the two, most of the others simply scattered away. This fear allowed the two to also begin collecting some dragon eggs in preparation for Lilith creating more Great Dragons.

Eventually Harry decided that he would begin grooming the Targaryen line, increasing the strength of the dragonblood within it, and when he was ready, he would take one of their newborns as his new body.

Lilith approved of this measure, and made the choice to leave him here at Valyria to begin his work on the Targaryens. She would take the dragon eggs back to their fortress in the North of Westoros and begin creating the Great Dragons once more.

And so it was that the two went about their work. Harry began to appear to the Targaryens in their dreams, using his magic to influence the dragonblood within them, making them stronger and more powerful.

Harry also began his plots to destroy the Valyrian Freehold. This was by far the largest and most powerful enemy they had encountered in this world. The Valyrians could be their greatest challenge, so Harry under the guise of Sauron, or more accurately, a nameless black shadow within the Fourteen Fires, began to plot the Freehold's downfall.

He kept in constant contact with his beloved sister, as she worked her magic to rebirth the Great Dragons. They had been away from their fortress for nearly eight years before she returned and when she did, she found that their numbers had grown and the fortress was well under construction, the main tower of the fortress being a massive construct that rose from a deep chasm, up the side of a mountain. Upon it's completion, this main tower would be nearly a three thousand feet tall upon it's completion. Not nearly as tall as Harry's own fortress of Barad-Dûr, but much wider. Instead of being mostly a tower, this would be a massive fortress that would extent out a league in any direction and contain thousands of tunnels deep beneath it.

The external portions would only be a fraction of the true size of the mighty fortress. The majority of the fortress itself would be underground and within the mountain with the only way in being through the main exterior fortifications. It would be unlike anything seen since the time of Angband or Utumno.

Tantibus Arcis would be a true nightmare in the hearts of men. A dread citadel at the edge of the world. In the pits beneath it, she began to breed her new dragons, using her twisted magics to birth the next generation of Great Dragons. With all that she had learned, she would be able to fix their design this time around. Removing their weaknesses and granting them greater strength. This time, they would be perfect, she would make sure of that.

Nearly a decade passed of plotting and preparing when suddenly Lilith received a call from Harry on the two-way mirror he had created for them. His voice was filled with excitement as he called for her to journey to Valyria to see what he had found beneath the Fourteen Fires.

Lilith was not one who accepted being summoned like a dog, yet Harry would not do so for no good reason. So she indulged him, heading back to Valyria for the first time in ten Years. She met Harry in one of the two center most volcanoes of the Fourteen Fires.

"You seemed rather excited when you called for me. What is it that you've found?" Lilith inquired upon arriving to his side.

Harry offered her a triumphant smirk and gestured to the boiling lava pits below.

"Reach out with your powers, and feel what sleeps below. Tell me if it's familiar to you." Harry told her, his smirk growing and his eyes lighting up with anticipation.

Lilith did as instructed, extending her will into the volcanic flames deep beneath them. She pushed her mind deeper into the molten rock, finding nothing. She knew he wouldn't have called her all this way without having found something truly amazing, so she pressed deeper, and deeper, until finally she felt a familiar essence flowing through the magma.

Deeper she pushed her mind, following the essence to it's source. When she felt it, her eyes lit up, and a grin split her face.

A Balrog. One of her loyal Lieutenants from an era long passed. The beast slumbered deep below them, surrounded by miles of molten rock. The creature had crossed the Void, much as they had, and came to this place long ago. That was the only explanation for why it was here.

Her will pressed against it, but before she could wake it, Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

"Harry?" She inquired with confusion.

"The volcanoes are fragile. I believe when you awaken the Balrog, it will trigger an eruption. And one eruption may cause the other volcanoes to erupt as well. Destroying the entire area." Harry informed her, earning a nod of understanding from his twin.

"We can use that though." Lilith noted, earning a smirk from Harry in the process.

"That we can. Allow me to pilfer what I can from the Valyrians, and remove the Targaryens from danger before you awaken the Balrog. Once that is done, we can strike a mortal blow to the Valyrians, one that they may not recover from. Their capital city is not far from here. The eruption of all Fourteen Volcanoes may destroy the city outright, shattering their grip on Essos, in the process." Harry offered.

Lilith nodded in agreement to his request. They would take what they could from the Valyrians, and then awaken her ancient servant.

Thus began a period of excitement for them, Lilith returned to her work at Tantibus Arcis, and Harry set to work stealing secrets from the Valyrians, pilfering things of value in secret. Harry had the two vanishing cabinets he had originally created to get from Mordor to Westoros, and had one of them brought to him in Valyria by Lilith, while the other remained in the pits of the citadel. From there, Harry would sneak his cabinet into the mines of Valyria, using a sizing charm to make it small, and under the secrecy of the Cloak of Invisibility, he would enter into the mine, find a hidden location out of sight, resize the cabinet and allow Orcs to sneak in and steal the slaves, as well as various ores and occasionally things of greater value like scrolls that Harry would pilfer, or even ingots of Valyrian Steel.

Whispers spread about the thefts but Harry could never be located. He didn't need the Cloak of Invisibility to become invisible as he was basically a spirit at this point but he used it just in case to avoid any magical spells, or the senses of the Dragons to avoid detection.

These resources and slaves were sent to the Nightmare Citadel, where they would be put to good use in preparation for the wars to come.

Eventually rumors spread among the slaves of vile monsters hidden within the mines. The orcs had not gone unnoticed but if they ever encountered a conflict, they would simply retreat into the cabinet which Harry would then hide with a Notice-Me-Not charm.

Six years this went on. Six long years Harry stole from the Valyrians. Vast amounts of wealth and slaves, flowed from his traps and into their kingdom. The Valyrians hardly noticed, their insatiable appetite for more meant that even with some resources going missing, it hardly affected them.

Eventually the day came where Harry entered into the mind of the daughter of the head of House Targaryen, Daenys Targaryen. In her mind he unleashed a vision of devastation. The fiery destruction of Valyria. A vision so powerful and clear that she awoke screaming in the night, and rushed to her father, telling him everything that she saw.

A few weeks passed. Every full moon, Harry would deliver the same vision onto Daenys. After the fifth time her father decided that this was a warning, and that they had to flee.

Like a man possessed he sold his lands and took his household and headed west. The Targaryens intended to settle on the westernmost edge of the Valyrian freehold, the island of Dragonstone, off the coast of Westoros.

With the Targaryens gone, Harry returned to work, pilfering from the Valyrians, stealing more of their secrets, their famous steal, he'd even personally gone to capture some of their most powerful magicals and craftsmen, having them kidnapped from their homes and dragged into the Vanishing Cabinet.

Humorously, a rumor began to spread from those that had managed to escape the orcs, of a 'dread cabinet' in the mines. A simple wooden cabinet that if one found it open, they should immediately flee from it, lest demons emerge and steal them away to the other side.

Harry and Lilith found it hilarious, and joked about it often. Twelve more years passed as Harry sent her all that he could manage without drawing the full attention of the Valyrians.

Rumors spread, and stories ran the gauntlet from outlandish wives-tales to diabolical fantasy stories. Many of which were spread by the slaves. In the nearly two decades that Harry spent kidnapping and stealing from the Valyrians, he had amassed quite a collection of items and slaves back at their Citadel.

Eventually though, the time had come and Lilith had grown impatient. Many of the most valuable things had been stolen already, all he was doing now was sending more basic things like slaves, gold, and jewels. While useful as bartering chips, they didn't really need them, and they definitely didn't need them more than a Balrog.

Twelve years after Harry had driven the Targaryens away with prophetic visions he called Lilith back to Valyria, where she immediately got to work awakening the Balrog.

What would have taken months for her servants and weeks, even for Harry, occurred in a single moment for her. Her will pierced the fire and magma and pushed into the slumbering mind of her ancient servant. Her mind passed into it's stirring the beast. She recognized it instantly.

"Dathrag! Rise! Your master calls for you. Rise my servant. Rise and bring death to the world!" Lilith hissed as the mountain began to shake.

A roar rose out from below as both of their eyes lit up with excitement.

Quickly the two flew out of the volcano, retreating to a nearby mountain.

They watched for several long moments as the world began to shake.

The shaking grew worse, and the hordes of dragons began to screech and take to the skies from each of the Fourteen Fires.

"Rise my servant. Rise and lay waste to these pathetic urchins." Lilith commanded, her eyes a fiery inferno and her voice seemingly carrying out over the entire volcanic range.

Suddenly, the volcano they had just departed from erupted. The sound was deafening, had either of them been mortal they would have permanently lost their hearing standing this close to the eruption.

Smoke and fire billowed up from the mountain as the earth shook violently. A few moments after the first volcano erupted the nearest volcano also began to erupt, releasing another deafening shockwave as it exploded into smoke and volcanic gasses.

Fire began to erupt from the first volcano, and soon magma was bursting forth. From the flames, a shadow emerged as the third volcano erupted.

This shadow shot high into the sky, flying free from the fire and ash and heading right towards them.

Lilith casually raised her hand forming a barrier of magic around herself as the burning shadow descended towards them, massive wings unfolding from the creature, sending lava splattering across the ground around Harry and Lilith. Her barrier stopped the molten rock from pelting her and it simply passed right through Harry's body.

The ground shook as the Balrog slammed into the earth before them, letting loose a demonic roar of fire and sulfur as it focused on them.

Several tense moments passed as it locked eyes with Lilith, her blazing orange gems, locked with pure hellfire. The Balrog unleashed another roar before dropping to a knee, kneeling before it's dark master.

"Dathrag. How good to see you again." Lilith said with a smirk as the fourth volcano erupted in the distance.

"**_Master_!" **The Demon hissed out in an ancient forgotten language, it's voice filled with fire and sulfur. The beast towered over them, standing at nearly thirty feet high, Lilith blinked several times, curious at it's size. She'd never seen one of her servants take such a towering form before. She was not at all upset by it's appearance. The Balrog's had the ability to change their shapes, taking on different forms, but being constrained to fire, shadow, and darkness.

The form of the creature before her was a mountainous demon. Four horns emerging from it's head, two long batlike wings extending far out from it's back. (**Similar to Durin's Bane from the movies, but with Tar Goroth's body shape)**

A long thick tail flowed out from it's body, and fire and smoke billowed free from cracks on the shadowy flesh of the beast. It's eyes were pure hellfire and it almost looked like a crossbreed between a man and a dragon, if she were forced to describe it.

The mighty demon stared down at her, as another volcano erupted in the distance. Then two more.

"Come, my servant. Let us bare witness to the devastation." Lilith offered after a moment of silence between the three.

With a mighty growl from the beast, the three took flight, appearing on a mountain top overlooking the city of Valyria.

Chaos surged through the streets of the ancient city as the remaining volcanoes began to erupt.

Powerful earthquakes shattered the land as ash filled the sky.

The trio watched as the land splintered, and sank into the sea. Within an hour, the Valyrian capital that had stood for thousands of years, was destroyed. Within days, the peninsula that had been the home of the Valyrians had split in two with some of the Fourteen Fires, sinking into the ocean. Huge clouds of ash and sulfur rained down, choking those that survived the earthquakes and tsunamis. Rivers and lakes quickly turned into poisonous cesspools or acid. Smaller volcanoes began to erupt around the peninsula, filling the entire area with a dense and toxic cloud of smoke.

Through it all, the trio watched. This had been far more amazing than they had anticipated. Almost no one had survived the destruction. The Valyrians who lived in and around the capitol were almost completely wiped out and those that lived in the surrounding areas fared no better.

To their amazement, the volcanoes had not just dealt the freehold a major wound, but had more than likely crippled it beyond saving.

"Reminds me of home." Harry noted, staring out across the burning mountains, and boiling seas that had once been the greatest empire this world had ever known.

"The orcs will love it here." Lilith hummed in agreement.

As they enjoyed the destruction, the two had brought their old ally into the fold, and informed him of what had happened and where they now were. The two had questioned him on how he had come to this place, his answer had been that during the final days of the War of Wrath, he had received a near mortal wound, and had used a vast quantity of his power to try and escape. The end result was a tear that he fell into that led him into the Void. In that aimless place he came crashing out of the void and into this realm. Wounded and exhausted he crawled into the pits of the mountain and entered into a deep slumber, where he had remained until he felt his master call for him.

His answer led to further speculation about the nature of the connection between worlds and the Void. The only creatures that inhabited said Void were demons, spirits, and lost things. Some of those demons had come to serve Lilith but even they offered little in the way of understanding that strange place. Not even Ungoliant, who was said to have come from the shadows beyond Arda, was truly aware of what the Void was, and if she was, than she unfortunately never told Lilith during their short time together.

Regardless. With the eruption of the volcanoes, the Valyrian Freehold had been dealt a mortal blow, and the two dark lords now set their sight on more pressing endeavors, such as getting Harry a new body and building another fortress within these ruins.

A fortress built in the wintery hell of the Land of Always Winter, and a fortress built in the shadows of Valyria's destruction. Now that would serve as an excellent start to their future campaign.

The time was coming. Preparations were far from complete, but the duo would soon be poised to unleash their armies upon the world.

**-To Be Continued-**

_**Alright here's the next chapter. Hope you liked that. Everything is coming together and it looks like it's gonna be a lot of fun. Enjoy!**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**K so I'm trying to get everything to line up neatly enough so that the events of GoT take place a few years before the events of the Hobbit. I'm going to try to get close, but I know I'll be off by a bit, so please forgive me.**_

**Darkness Reborn**

**Chapter 4: The Birth of the Dragonwolf.**

The Century of Blood they were calling it. A hundred years of nothing but chaos all throughout Essos. The Doom of Valyria. That was what they had named the event that led to the destruction of the Valyrian capitol and the deaths of many of the dragons and dragon lords.

The Century of Blood came afterwards with many of the Valyrian colonies declaring independence. One of the colonies, the Volantenes tried to declare themselves the new rulers of the Valyrian Freehold, but that didn't take. The former Ghiscari cities declared their independence, going back to what they did best, selling slaves to the highest bidder. The surviving dragonlords were quickly killed in various conquests and power plays, one dragon lord named Aurion, even declared himself the new emperor of Valyria and led a host into the ruins of Valyria where most of his forces perished when they ran out of water, and when they tried to drink from the lakes, if they were lucky it was poisoned and if they weren't, it was acid.

Those that survived were quickly cut down by the newest residents of the ruins. Making good on her musings, Lilith ordered a new stronghold be constructed in the ruins of Valyria. The orcs and uruks that had been sent there had stalked the invading force as it entered into the ruined peninsula. Thirty thousand men, led from the back of a dragon. None of them had expected the raw pollution and devastation of the Doom. Without water, the army quickly fell to pieces and was forced to retreat. They suffered incredible losses as they tried to escape the peninsula. Unfortunately for them, they had boldly tried to march straight through, leaving them in the dead center of old Valyria with no water, surrounded by poison.

Within days, a third of the army had died of dehydration. It was when Aurion started to lose his senses, that the attacks began. One night, under cover of darkness, the Orcs surrounded the dragonlord's camp. An Oleg-hai warchief snuck down into the camp, and crept up on the slumbering dragon. With ferocity and precision the Oleg drove a great pike straight through the dragon's eye and into it's brain, killing it immediately. The orcs then set fire to the tens, and rained arrows down on those that emerged. By morning, two thousand more men were dead, and the dragonlord was nowhere to be found. The soldiers broke rank after that and kept retreating. The following day they came upon their emperor. He had been impaled on the same pike that had been used to kill his dragon, and left out to bake in the sun.

Terror consumed the survivors who never managed to escape. Despite the orc host only numbering about two thousand strong, they were able to spend the next week and a half picking apart the remainder of their dehydrated foe. None of the dragonlord's soldier managed to escape. A majority of them died of dehydration, while the rest fell to the poisoned lakes and rivers, or to the orc horde that harrowed them every step of the way.

The Witch King and two of the Nazgul had been sent to Valyria to command a great host of their own and to begin building a new dark fortress within the ruins of the once great capitol. The dark host easily adapted to the volcanic hotbed, which was so very similar to how Mordor had been during Harry's reign. They had no difficulty at all surviving amongst the poisoned gases and volcanic lava flows. New orc pits were dug in the ruins, and the fresh deaths made it all but certain that the powers of darkness would flow easily in this place of despair and suffering.

Few dared to enter the ruins of Valyria after the death of Aurion and his army, with whispers of it being haunted quickly filling the streets of every city across Essos.

Without the Valyrian dragon-riders to hold them back, hordes of Dothraki horse riders surged out of the grassy planes of Essos and began to raid, rape, and pillage all across the western side of the continent.

The Century of Blood was the perfect distraction for the construction of a new base of power in Valyria. A new fortress was constructed out of the ruins of Valyria itself. Again named in Latin, it was called Arcem Ossa. The Fortress of Bones.

And over the course of fifty years, it rose out of the decrepit ruins as a twisted fortress surrounded in smoke and fog, encircled by the dead city that was once the capital of the greatest civilization in the history of this world.

From this fortress, the Witch King would rule, and prepare an army for the eventual conquest of Essos.

Eighty years after the destruction of Valyria, Tantibus Arcis, had completed primary construction.

In the far north a twisted kingdom of shadows had risen.

This massive fortress was built on the backs of orcs, uruks, olegs, and human slaves. These human slaves were kept alive with what little food that could be found, and when they died, they were simply raised as wights and forced to continue working. The army of dead men that never stopped working made things progress at a rapid rate.

The main tower of the fortress stretched high into the sky and could be seen for miles in any direction. It was wide and tall, built in a similar design as Barad-Dûr, though much wider at it's base. Atop the massive tower was an enormous blue stone, standing at nearly twenty feet high and fifteen feet across. This stone radiated with the same magics possessed by the Heart of the Others. Lilith had copied those same magics and had created this massive power stone affixed atop the main tower to be capable of generating an unending blizzard around the fortress.

The glow of the blue stone could be seen for miles, almost like a beacon, calling men forth into the storm to freeze to death.

It also allowed orcs to navigate within the blizzard by simply looking for the blue glow in the sky while they moved throughout the Land of Always Winter.

The tower itself was half built into the side of a mountain, and rose almost halfway up it's peak. Battlements and smaller towers dotted the mountain along with constructed pathways and scaffolding. Hidden passageways allowed exit and entrance into the mountain where a network of tunnels filled the interior and delved deep down beneath the fortress and mountain.

Surrounding the base of the main tower was a series of walls, battlements, and smaller towers crisscrossing back and forth forming staging grounds, training yards, and an almost honeycomb like defense around the main keep. Several smaller forts dotted this honeycomb like network, preventing invaders from pushing towards the massive tower, without first taking down each fort in turn.

This crisscrossing pattern stretched out for nearly half a mile around the base of the tower itself. Outside of the honeycomb battlements, sat a wide open space where deep pits had been dug into the Earth. These pits connected to the massive caves and tunnel systems that were dug beneath the dark citadel. From these pits, smoke rose into the air, as countless forges smithed armor and weapons for the massive host.

Beyond these pits lay two outer walls which stretched nearly around the entirety of the stronghold. To the north of the fortress and the mountain it was built into was nothing but taller mountains and sheer rock faces, that were nigh impassable, unless one could fly. The fortress itself had been constructed into one of the lower laying mountains of this mountain range. The surrounding outermost walls had been built in the image of Winterfell's walls. An exterior set of walls that were sixty feet high, and twenty feet thick, dotted with towers, battlements, and equipped with machicolations. The second wall was build with a forty foot gap separating the two. A moat filled with spikes, separated the first wall from the second. These walls were eighty feet high, and built in much the same way. The first set of walls had no inner facing defenses so if anyone managed to get on the outermost walls, they would have no protection from those on the inner most walls.

Aside from the pits, a few forts of stone filled the gap between the outermost walls and the inner honeycomb fortress, and with each passing day these fortresses grew larger and larger, the intention being that one day there would be nothing but a massive impregnable fortress that would be unbreakable by even an army of millions. It would be a fortress so massive that not even the combined might of the Valar could over take it.

Of course, such was the grandeur of Lilith.

Over the Century, Harry spent most of his time moving between their northern fortress, their fortress in Valyria, and the isle of Dragonstone where the Targaryens resided. There he would continue to use his magic to strengthen the dragon's blood in their veins.

The results were interesting. After nearly a century the head of house Targaryen, Aegon, had his sights set on Westoros.

Harry watched with great interest as Aegon and his sister wives set off for Westoros, leaving Essos in the past.

Landing at the mouth of the Blackwater rush, they constructed a wooden fort atop a muddy hill overlooking the sea. From there they struck out against Westoros, and one by one, the seven kingdoms began to fall.

The first to be destroyed was house Hoare and the Ironborn who were burned alive in the recently constructed Harrenhal. Such a massive project had been started forty years prior and had been built on the backs of Ironborn slaves. The castle itself was more massive than any other on the continent save for Tantibus Arcis. Such a mighty fortress would have been the dread of any would-be invader, had Aegon not simply turned it into the worlds largest oven from atop the back of his mighty dragon, Balerion. The final brick of the great castle was said to have been laid on the day Aegon landed in Westoros.

House Durrandon fell next. The lord of Storm's End marched against Aegon's Bastard half brother, Orys Baratheon, and Queen Rhaenys. It was a hard fought battle but in the end, the bastard threw down the high lord in single combat and took his home, his house, and his daughter for his own, forming House Baratheon, the new lords of Storm's End.

Next house Gardener, and house Lannister joined forces to try and crush Aegon's army. They formed a force of nearly sixty thousand, and this force was quickly laid to waste by Aegon and his sister-wives. With their three dragons they burned the massive army and brought down the Gardener line. The Lannister King quickly surrendered. The Lannisters bent the knee and got to keep Casterly Rock. House Tyrell, the stewards for the Gardeners, graciously handed over Highgarden and in turn were named the new lords of the Reach.

Not long after the Starks arrived from the North intent on dealing with Aegon and his army. Aegon met them at the Trident, a day after laying eyes on Aegon's army and his dragons, King Torrhen of House Stark, wisely surrendered, and got to keep his ancestral home and maintain his position as ruler of the North.

Next came the Vale and it fell with ease, when Visenya Targaryen rode her dragon to the Eyrie and kindly asked the boy-king's mother to surrender the castle and bend the knee. Seeing the threat to her son and the heir to the Eyrie, the woman chose to submit rather than risk his life.

From there, Aegon marched south towards Oldtown, intent on taking the heart of Westoros and the seat of the religious faithful. When he arrived though, he found the gates open, and the High septon graciously welcoming him. The leader of the faithful then happily proclaimed that Aegon was the rightful king of Westoros and bestowed him a ruby crown and named him Aegon of House Targaryen, First of his name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of Westoros, and Protector of the Realm.

Quite lofty titles. In less that two years the Targaryens had conquered nearly all of Westoros. All that remained was Dorne.

Much as her elder sister had done, Rhaenys flew across the vast deserts and landed in Sunspear, ending up right in the garden of the princess of Dorne. Whatever was said between the two, had caused Rhaenys to turn tail and fly right back to her family.

A few months later, Aegon and his armies arrived in Dorne, but they were met by no armies or any enemies at all. The Dornish had retreated from their cities to hidden outposts, allowing the Targaryen host to capture Sunspear and take Dorne for their own.

Not long after Aegon and his sisters left, the Dornish rose up, murdered the garrisons left behind, and reclaimed their cities. Soon Rhaenys returned, but when she did, the Dornish were ready. Even as they burned, they fought on, until finally a bolt pierced the eye of her dragon and knocked it out of the sky.

Aegon's wrath was terrible, and he and his sister set fire to every castle, town, and keep in Dorne. But the Dornish did not break.

Lilith and Harry watched with great amusement as their enemies fought. The Dornish proved that the valor of man still existed, and both Dark Lords intended to punish them for such reminders.

Aegon's conquest taught them both a great deal about their enemies and how the lords of Westoros waged wars.

This great conquest furthered Harry's decision to take a Targaryen as his new body. For he would be able to regain not only a physical form, but the throne of Westoros, and the twisted seat forged from the thousand swords of Aegon's enemies.

Such would be an easy victory for them, when the time was right.

Dorne managed to hold off against Aegon until he finally accepted their independence. In time they would join the rest of Westoros but for now, his wrath had burned out.

Aegon had a grand city constructed at the point where he had originally landed when he'd come to Westoros. Harry had watched as the city rose from the mud, forming into King's Landing.

The age of Targaryen leadership had begun.

Harry remained close to the Targaryens, hiding amongst the people of King's Landing. He kept in constant contact with his sister and his servants as their armies grew. At night he would talk with Lilith about their shared past, going over every single day that he could remember, no matter how dull, no matter how mundane. He filled her mind with his memories of the past, helping her to understand who she had once been, and what they had lost.

Days turned into months, months into years. The Targaryen reign brought with it many intriguing alterations to their plans for Westoros. Harry was never far from the action, often encroaching onto the minds of the Targaryens in their slumber.

During this time, the Great Dragon's returned into being. Deep in the heart of their northern kingdom, beneath their winter fortress, these giant monsters grew and aged, stronger then ever before.

Time passed, and Aegon died. His eldest son with his beloved Rhaenys took the throne, but he did not hold it for long. His death came quickly, and Aegon's second son, Maegor took the throne soon after, stealing it away from the rightful heir and dealing with the rebellious faith militant. Harry had a great deal of fun with Maegor. It was with Maegor that Harry first began to appear, draped in illusions and under the guise of the Lord of Gifts, he showered Maegor with blessings and an elven blade, taken long ago during an ancient war. The blade had been called Celairarad, meaning Brilliant Morning. A magnificent straight sword, the blade itself was silvery-white, and along the lower fourth of the spine were a set of four amber gems on either side extending up from the cross-guard like a sunrise. The cross guard was a magnificent white-silver similar to the blade and encrusted with mythril gems. With a pommel and handle of white elven wood.

The blade itself was utterly astounding to the eyes, and when it had been offered to Maegor, the people within his great hall swooned and awed at it's brilliance.

Under the guise of Annatar, Harry bid the great king good fortune and his hope that Celairarad would bring great fortune to the Targaryen dynasty.

From time to time, Annatar would reappear, using his illusions to appear in a splendid elven form. And often he would deliver great gifts to the Targaryens when he did. No one knew where he had come from, and attempts to follow him, never met with success.

Over the years he would return, offering his blessings, and plying the Targaryens with gifts. When Maegor died, Annatar appeared before his heirs.

Time passed and Annatar continued to appear. Filling many with disbelief and suspicion at the pointy eared man who did not age.

In times of sickness in the Targaryen line, Annatar would offer them a cure not even the maesters could come up with. During times of war, Annatar offered them secrets of their enemies.

The people were in fear and awe of the undying man, and the Targaryens came to honor him as an ally.

Years passed as the two dark lords prepared for war, their numbers growing rapidly in the dark and abandoned places of the world. With each passing day, Harry's plans for the Targaryens evolved and grew, until one day he decided that he wouldn't just take a Targaryen as his host, but a Targaryen and a Stark. The blood of the great dragons, and the blood of the werewolves. He would groom both lines, and forge a host of great power that would be nigh unstoppable.

Annatar began to walk the frozen wastes of the North, bringing to the Stark Lords various secrets and techniques.

The friend of the Dragons became the friend of the Wolves as well, and in time the Starks could only thank this seemingly unaging mystic that would appear from time to time, usually during era's of hardship and offer them solutions. When Annatar spoke, people listened. He never asked for gravitas and he never remained long enough for men to throw tourneys or hold banquets in his honor. He was there one day and gone the next.

Once during a time of famine, Annatar provided the Starks with seedlings, taken from the frozen lands of Middle Earth. These seedlings would grow thick blood red weeds, who's roots dug deep into the ground. The roots of these weeds could be harvested and eaten, and could help them survive in the brutal cold. His gift bore fruit, saving thousands from starvation during a particularly long winter. Afterwards a Stark ruler, a wild and mighty man, declared that Annatar would forever be a friend and guest of the Stark household and demanded to know what could be done to repay the undying noble and charismatic friend of the North.

For once in his many years, Annatar gave a reply. He asked to be given Moat Cailin, so that he could restore it to it's former glory.

His response had earned barking laughter from the old Stark Lord. Even when asking for a reward for his service, the Lord of Gifts lived up to his name. Having Moat Cailin repaired and rebuilt, would allow the North to more easily defend itself. The place was a ruin though, unfit for one so regal and noble as Annatar, yet he was firm on his decision.

The Stark lord accepted his request and granted him the ruined keep. Annatar accepted it graciously, even swearing fealty to the Stark Lord as a sign of service and good faith. Now with a base in the heart of Westoros, Annatar began to further his plans.

Across his time there, Harry would occasionally leave his position at Moat Cailin, departing back through the portal to Mordor, where he would further plans there with the aid of the Nazgul. Back in Middle-Earth he began to openly restore his forces in Mordor, and seized control of the ancient fortress of Dol Guldur in Mirkwood, where he began to amass power.

Harry also dispatched emissaries from Dol Guldur to Moria where whispers had reached him of a shadow lurking deep within the ancient dwarven kingdom. If his suspicions were correct, another Balrog could be lurking there, and he intended to return the Balrog, back to his master's side.

Years passed, and a great Targaryen civil war broke out. When it did, Annatar met with both claimants to the throne, offering them gifts and his wisdom on their foes, all the while he passed information on what both were doing to his Liege Lords, and to Lilith.

The Dance of Dragons, it had been called, a terrible conflict that saw most of the Targaryen dragons destroyed, and those that remained, severely weakened. That served Harry's purpose just fine. Without dragons it would be easier to prevent other factions from rising against him when the time was right.

Time passed and nearly a decade after the Dance, while residing on Middle-Earth, Harry heard whispers that the Great Dragon Smaug, had taken the dwarven kingdom of Erebor for his own. Harry was quick to dispatch emissaries there as well, to try and convince the mighty dragon that the true dark lord had returned and she was calling her servants back to her.

Many more years passed, and more Targaryen civil wars tore through the land, often at the hands of Targaryen bastards, the Blackfyres.

Annatar offered the Blackfyres none of the aid, he did the Targaryens. They would be enemies upon the day, and he refused to assist them in their wars.

Eventually, after nearly two-hundred-and-sixty years of Targaryen rule, Harry knew he was ready. The beautiful prince Rhaegar Targaryen had been born. And from this man, Harry would gain his Targaryen blood. Not long after, the Lord of house Stark had a daughter, Lyanna. She proved to be a fiery wolf, the blood of the werewolf was indeed strong in her.

Harry took a leave of absence from his fort at Moat Cailin, the ancient fortress having been repaired by his magic and was now garrisoned by descendants of the Valyrian slaves, taken before the Doom. These slaves had been twisted into Lilith's service, and were now undyingly loyal to their dark master.

Harry had gone south to King's Landing. There he offered his services to king Jaehaerys II Targaryen, Rhaegar's grandfather. The stories of the old Lord of Gifts hadn't been forgotten by the Targaryens, and Annatar still visited on occasion to fulfill his name sake and offer them his wisdom. Lord Jaehaerys accepted Annatar into his service, keeping him close as an adviser. Not long after, Jaehaerys died, leaving the throne in the hands of his son Aerys II Targaryen.

Annatar kept close to the young king, whispering in his ear. Even when Aerys named his old friend Tywin Lannister as his hand, Annatar kept close.

Tywin and Annatar got along better than one would expect. Tywin was utterly ruthless, and Annatar admired that trait within him. They butted heads on occasion, but held a mutual respect for one another, due to their cunning.

While Tywin advised the king and the two worked together to build a prosperous Westoros, Annatar befriended the young boy Rhaegar. As the boy grew, Annatar whispered prophecy into his ear.

Aerys began to show signs of an ill temperatment and a paranoid nature, soon people began to lose faith in Aerys and turn their hope towards Rhaegar. Aerys had Rhaegar married to Elia Martell of Dorne, refusing to have him married to Tywin's daughter Cercei, forming a rift between the two, that would eventually lead to Tywin stepping down from his position as Hand of the King.

One day, Aerys found himself held prisoner by some of his subjects, during what was later known as the Defiance of Duskendale. For nearly half a year, Aerys was held prisoner. He was only freed after Ser Barristan Selmy, one of his Kingsguard managed to sneak into the city and rescue the king.

From that day onward, Aerys began to slip into madness. A madness that served Harry just fine.

Aerys' form began to twist and sicken as Annatar whispered treachery into the king's ear. Arguments between Tywin and Aerys became more commonplace and Aerys himself grew more paranoid and fearful. He'd even brought over an Essosi to serve as his Master of Whispers, not trusting any Westorosi to not whisper deceptions into his ears.

With everyone's focus on the growing madness of the King, Annatar was easily able to work his magic on the young Rhaegar. Filling the young man's mind with ideas of prophecy and destiny. More specifically, the prophecy of the three headed dragon, said to bring prosperity to the world, and end a great tragedy.

Rhaegar was kind, and noble. Beautiful, and generous. His only fault was his belief in such mysticism, but Rhaegar was smart enough to keep such thoughts to like-minded company.

Rhaegar had two children, Rhaenys and Aegon, both of whom could have been suitable candidates as Harry's new vessel, but he was determined to see his plan through. The heightened dragon's blood in Rhaegar's veins made Elia's pregnancy difficult, and both times it nearly killed her. Attempts to get a third child out of her, would have no doubt caused her death. Which forced Rhaegar to find another to give him a third child.

During a great tournament held in Harrenhal, Rhaegar and Annatar watched as a strange knight, short in stature and wearing mismatched armor, unseated three knights, and as payment for them ransoming their horses and armor back, ordered them to teach their squires some humility and discipline.

Everyone had been curious about this strange knight, dubbed the 'Knight of the Laughing Tree', due to the laughing weirwood tree painted on the shield. It was Annatar who saw through the knight's disguise, whispering into Rhaegar's ears as many pondered the strange knight's identity, that the person hidden under all that armor, was a woman.

This earned a great deal of curiosity from the young prince whom was later found singing under a tree, after claiming to be unable to locate this unknown knight.

It was later confirmed in Harry's mind that Rhaegar had indeed found the Knight of the Laughing Tree when he won the Tourney and crowned Lyanna Stark the Queen of Love and Beauty, over his own wife.

Things progressed nicely from there. Within two months, Rhaegar brought Annatar into his confidence, telling him about his secret correspondence with Lyanna Stark. Feigning ignorance on the matter, Annatar encouraged the pursuit, as Lyanna could provide Rhaegar the child he needed to fulfill the three-headed dragon prophecy.

Not long afterwards, while heading south Lyanna Stark disappeared with Rhaegar, the two slipping into Dorne where they were married in secret.

Lyanna's betrothed, Robert Baratheon, through a fuss when he heard, and Lyanna's older brother, Brandon Stark, was furious.

He rode to the capital and demanded Rhaegar answer for his supposed crimes. Aerys had him imprisoned, and summoned his father, Rickard Stark to the capitol. Once there he charged the Lord of Winterfell with treason. In turn Rickard demanded a trial by combat.

The Mad King obliged, and took fire as his champion. He had the Lord of the North strung up by the rafters and held over a fire, where he cooked to death in his own armor. His son, Brandon was forced to watch, a noose tied around his neck, and a sword set just out of reach. Brandon strangled himself trying to reach it.

The Mad King's actions would no doubt trigger a war. So Annatar made to appear to argue against the brutal slaying of the Stark Lords, as did many of the king's council, and after their deaths, Annatar stole away the bones of the Starks, and the northern lords, and had them sent North by some of his loyal servants.

It was time now for Annatar to leave the Targaryen's side. Aerys was furious, proclaiming this to be a new betrayal. He ordered Annatar seized, but the Lord of Gifts, responded in kind, drawing a blade and cutting down twelve men in a flurry of steel. Even in spectral form, Harry's abilities far outclassed normal humans.

The Kingsguard stood terrified, the fear in their eyes was unmistakable. Aerys himself cowered in his chair as Annatar's eyes glowed like wildfire and he smiled cruelly at the Mad King.

With a declaration to return to his rightful Liege Lord, Annatar drew a knife and tossed it at the Mad King, the blade, finding rest, less than a quarter-inch from the man's cheek. The King let out a terrified howl and cowered away from the blade as the Kingsguard attempted to rush the Lord of Gifts. Only for Annatar to grin wickedly, and dispel his illusions, fading completely from sight.

There had always been whispers of Annatar's magical abilities. Some called him a warlock from the Far East of Essos, others said he was a descendant of the Children of the Forest, regardless of their beliefs, many stories of his magical abilities had sprung up over the years, but there had rarely if ever been any evidence beyond his seeming longevity to indicate such things.

Before his departure, and true to his trickster nature, Annatar approached the terrified Mad King, and whispered into his ears that he would not live to see the end of this war, and he would die, terrified, and alone.

This sent the Mad King spiraling out of control. He spent the remainder of the day, screaming and frothing at the mouth, accusing everyone of plotting against him.

Meanwhile, Annatar slipped out of the Red Keep, and headed south. Finding his way to where Rhaegar and Lyanna were tucked away, Lyanna already heavy with child.

Annatar remained unseen as he hovered around the pregnant wolf. Every night he would hover over her, passing his essence into her unborn child. The end result left her sickly, quite often, and unable to leave the tower, as her pregnancy progressed.

Word reached his ears of a rebellion led by Robert Baratheon, Ned Stark, and Jon Arryn. Rhaegar heard of it as well, and was forced to march north along with an army of Dornish men to reinforce the royal host against the rebels.

Despite his skill with a blade, Harry knew that the noble prince was unlikely to survive.

It didn't matter regardless. Each day, Harry poured more and more of himself into the unborn child growing in Lyanna's belly, just as he had done with the Ring so long ago.

Not long before the birth of the child, Harry got into contact with Lilith one final time through the two-way mirrors they possessed.

"So the birth will happen soon?" Lilith inquired.

"Yes. Within a fortnight or so." Harry answered.

"It will be good to have you back in the flesh, brother." Lilith said to him.

"Yes. I look forward to finally being able to truly touch you again, when we see each other. How goes things in the North?" Harry responded.

"Our army has grown massive, and is ready to be unleashed. While you spend time getting acclimated to your new body, I will begin sending my forces south to engage the Wildlings. Reports from Mordor and Valyria indicate sizable armies gathering there as well. The time is coming soon, brother. We will make this world ours, and when we return to Arda, we will bring fire and death to all who oppose us." Lilith stated to him, earning a vicious grin from Harry.

"I look forward to seeing you then. I ordered one of the Nazgul to carry something to you, something I've been preparing for quite some time." Harry informed her, earning a curious look.

"Oh?" Lilith noted.

"It's a diary. In it, I've filled the pages with all of my memories of the past. We've spoken at length on the life we lived so long ago, but my hope is that this diary will give you a clearer insight into our past. The things written within you much never openly address. That which is covered by Taboo is inside. Truths that I cannot say. While I am away, I hope that you will read my journal, so that when we meet again, your questions will be answered." Harry offered to her, earning a nod of acceptance from Lilith.

"I look forward to the day, brother. And I will fill my mind with your memories, and perhaps, reawaken some of my own in the process. Until then… my beloved..." Lilith said to him.

"Until then… my heart…" Harry replied, offering her a loving smile, which he knew would made her flustered. It worked like a charm, causing her to avert her eyes and smile, before cutting the connection.

Harry let out a sigh and turned his gaze up towards the sky. He then lowered his gaze down to his hand, staring through the flesh and the earthen ground beneath him.

"_Time to awaken, and behold the fruits of my labor."_ Harry hummed to himself, before rising and returning to the tower, where he finished pouring the remainder of his essence into the unborn child within Lyanna's womb.

On the opposite end of the continent, Lilith felt a shift in the fabric of the world. Harry's aura faded, becoming bound and tightened within the constraints of something. A small smile touched at her lips, despite the weakening of his presence, she could still clearly feel him over their connection. It may be a decade or more before she heard from him again, but she would keep herself busy until that moment.

Regaining her focus she turned her attention to a mass of shadows nearby. As her gaze settled on the shadows, fire erupted from them, and Dathrag roared to life.

"The time has come, my loyal servant. We shall begin marching south. The wildling tribes will be the first to fall." Lilith commanded.

"**And fall they shall, my master."** Dathrag hissed in response.

"Gather the warchiefs. War is upon us." Lilith ordered her servant as she turned and exited the room, passing through to a balcony that overlooked the massive icy citadel. Fire and activity lit up the area, and hundreds of thousand worked tirelessly, building and training and reading themselves for war.

"_Return to me quickly, Harry. Our war begins now, and this world, will soon face our wrath."_ Lilith grinned out over her army

The shadows had finished building in the North, now they were ready to be unleashed.

Back in Middle-Earth, a meeting had been called by members of the White Council. Including the Elf-Lord Elrond, the Lady of Light Galadriel, and the Wizards, Saruman, and Gandalf. Terror had spurned the need for a meeting as a dark presence had arisen and departed from Moria.

"The shadow in the depths has vanished?" Saruman inquired.

"Yes. I have felt it. Fading away from this world, as if, like a dream." Galadriel answered.

"If the shadow truly was a Balrog of Morgoth, what are the chances it has moved to ally itself with Sauron?" Elrond asked aloud.

"We have seen no proof that the Dark Lord can again take form in this world. Shadows are growing in the east, but Mount Doom remains dormant. If Sauron has returned there, he has not shown himself." Saruman answered.

"If not to Sauron, than where could it have gone to? The only force in this world that it would ever ally itself with is Sauron. Otherwise, the Balrog would work alone." Gandalf questioned.

"There is one other, for which they both serve. One who could summon both Dark Lord and Demon to her side." Galadriel noted, earning a shivering quiet from her fellow councilmen.

"Such a thing should not be uttered, lightly." Saruman noted.

"You correct. And yet… where has the beast of Morgoth gone to, if not to her side?" Galadriel stated.

"We must have answers. Perhaps an expedition into Mordor, to see what shadows stir there?" Gandalf suggested.

"Mordor, or perhaps Moria. We sensed the shadow's departure, but how certain are we that it is truly gone?" Saruman inquired, earning a tense quiet from his fellows.

"The shadows are rising. This… was not anticipated." Galadriel noted, her face filling with deep concern, and in her gaze, fear danced like flame.

"We must investigate. Speculation will get us nowhere. For now, we need information." Saruman noted, rising to his feet.

"Than I will gather it." Gandalf offered, earning the gaze of his fellows.

"I will venture to Mordor and see what I can find there. If nothing reveals itself, than I will walk the path of Moria, and seek the shadow's heart. If the beast is truly gone, than I believe lady Galadriel is right, and our fears are far worse than we could possibly have imagined." Gandalf said to them, earning quiet acceptance from the group, despite none of them wishing for such things.

Silently, the White Council disbanded. Information was needed, now more than ever. Something had happened, something that none of them had foreseen. If there was even the slimmest chance that Morgoth had returned, they needed to know, now.

**-To Be Continued-**

_**Alrighty there you guys go. That's where Jon comes into play, the story will now, more follow his perspective going forward. I hope you enjoyed, as the full story will begin here in the next chapter, now that the backstory had kinda been dealt with. Anyway, enjoy.**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**K, so the real narrative of the story, really starts here, we start to see things from character perspectives and time will slow down to a more manageable level, after this chapter. I'll place some warnings here, since this is where it really starts to become apparent, but this story will be dark and twisted. Harry and Lilith are both evil, through and through. They are both sick and depraved, and willing to do horrible and twisted things to innocent people, so just prepare yourself for that going forward.**_

_**People always ask about harems when they're mentioned in stories, like how it's gonna be, how many, what goes on. I'll just explain right now, that the main pairing is gonna be Jon/Lilith, but both of them will have slaves/concubines. Which is why I said it'll be a bit of a twisted harem. With not just one of them having concubines but both of them. Feel free to offer suggestions.**_

_**I'll leave a question here for you, in regards to warnings for things that might be considered extreme, do you want a warning at the start of the chapter? Or as a scene break? Or would you rather no warnings at all? I'm happy with whatever, but I don't really intend to hold anything back in this story, since we are dealing with two of the most evil entities here, so a lot of terrible and nasty stuff is gonna go down. Let me know.**_

**Darkness Reborn**

**Chapter 5: Flesh and Bone**

Jon Snow. That was the name that Eddard Stark had given him. Aegon Targaryen, that was the name Lyanna had whispered to Eddard, moments before her death, a name he desired far more. Aegon, same as the conqueror. Such a title would lead to great fortune in the future. The Dark Lord was indeed quite happy to receive it. Less so to hear what had befallen his siblings in the capital. Poor, sweet, Elia Martell and her children, butchered and wrapped in Lannister cloaks. Those two children could have been useful, they could have made powerful allies, the blood of the dragon was strong in them. The order of birth didn't matter, the Dark Lord would have risen above them, dominated them, and bent them to his will.

Sadly that would not come to pass. As he was carried in the arms of the captured wetnurse away from the Tower of Joy, he felt the shadows of the Nazgul follow. Three of them, followed in secret, trailing them as they delivered Ser Arthur Dayne's body and sword to his family. Harry sent a mental command to one of the trailing Nazgul to steal the body when the opportunity arose and take it to Lilith where it could be brought back from the dead and used for a special purpose. One of the greatest sword fighters in all of Westoros. Now that would be a useful servant to have.

Being in the body of an infant, was like floating within a cloud. Everything was light, and you seemingly shifted with the passing breeze.

Little at all could be done in such a body, other than think. And that is what the Dark Lord did. From the ruins of the Tower of Joy, back to the North in the hands of his uncle Eddard Stark. Thinking, pondering life, pondering the future. The body was stable, the Dark Lord's power contained. Now it would only be a matter of years before he could actually start to use it.

The childhood he was subjected to, brought back terrible memories. It wasn't nearly as poor as his first childhood, but the anger and resentment shown to him by Eddard Stark's wife, Catelyn, while understandable, did nothing but remind him of his dearest aunt and uncle from during his life as Harry Potter.

For four years, power flowed through the boy's little body, working it, and tempering it. Hardening it for future use. This often left him exhausted and appearing to be quite sickly. Often times he would be bedridden, but that was fine. In the dark of the night, he would continue to channel great magics through his new body, ensuring that when the time came, it could be used to unleash his full power against the armies of men and elves.

During that time he got to enjoy the distasteful presence of Eddard Stark's wife, Catelyn. In the beginning, the woman would whisper quiet prayers for her gods to take him in his sleep. He was a bastard to her knowledge, born of her husband's infidelity, and she would rather see him dead, then have him live as a threat to her true-born children.

One day, near the end of his preparations, she was struck with a bout of guilt. He remembered her kneeling next to his bedside while he feigned slumber, swearing and promising to the old gods and the new, that if he were to live, she would raise him as a mother should. She would no longer treat him so poorly.

Low and behold, when he had finished his preparations, he had gotten better. He no longer was sickly or weak. In fact, by the time he was five, he never got sick again.

Lady Catelyn didn't hold true to her word. Nothing much changed between the two. She still treated him with open resentment, and would rarely allow her own children to associate with the black sheep of the Stark household.

That didn't matter much. The black sheep was fine to spend time alone. It was in his moments of loneliness that he'd often be sought out by Robb Stark the eldest, True Born son of Ned Stark. The boy was always curious about his half-brother, and Jon Snow was willing to entertain his presence.

Despite the so-called bonds he slowly formed with his Brother, and his Father, Jon Snow never forgot what he was. A king. A Targaryen. A lord of Darkness and Terror. Fire and Shadow. His destiny, outweighed something as small and pitiful as Winterfell.

When Jon was six, the Greyjoys rebelled against King Robert, the Usurper of his family's throne.

And with that rebellion, Ned Stark marched off to war. And later he would return, victorious and with a new ward for the family house. Theon Greyjoy.

By the time Jon was eight, he was spending every day in the training yards, honing his muscles and reteaching his body to wield a blade.

Every night he would enter the crypts of Winterfell and whisper to the ancient dead. There in the shadows he would practice his magic, deep below the castle.

As the years went by, Jon Snow would plot and plan, always appearing stoic, quiet, and brooding, but with an almost unnatural form of grace that drew people's attention.

During long mornings, a gentle singing voice could be heard traveling out of the godswood. Where within, Jon Snow would sing to himself, often times his voice trailing into songs from his childhood as Harry Potter, lullaby's and the like, things he had sung to his sister when they were both young.

Harry Potter had always been decent at singing, though shyly he often wouldn't. By the time he'd gone to Hogwarts he'd stopped singing to himself, and would only sing on occasion to his twin, whenever she was feeling down, or lonely.

Not many people had known that about him. It had even come as a surprise to many of his friends at Hogwarts, who had once heard him singing down at the edge of the lake, near the castle.

After all these years, his singing had improved vastly. Learning songs of the elves, and men of Middle-Earth. Songs he had come up with himself on occasion whenever he was bored. In fact, even as Annatar he would sometimes sing, letting his smooth and often sorrowful and lonely voice carry gentle tunes that filled peoples hearts with quiet contentment and sometimes even humility.

Singing was almost all that remained of the man who had fought for the Light so long ago. He had changed so much since then, his heart became cold, from battle and betrayal. He became uncaring to the plight of others, and would often find enjoyment in their suffering. During his long time as Sauron he had almost never sang. And the times that he did, was often only to honor the memory of his lost love.

With a new body, and a new voice, he taught himself how to sing again, his hope was to one day sing to his beloved sister again, and see her smile, a genuine smile, as she so rarely did.

Sometimes his gentle, childish voice would draw others to his singing, and they would stand and listen, as he sung songs that they didn't fully understand. Gentle melodies of returning home, to that which was most precious, and to finding love once more.

He cared little for their staring, and often ignored them, never really answered when asked where he had learned such songs, or when he had become so good at singing. Robb and Theon teased him about it, and at times it would draw looks of concern and sorrow from Ned, it was in those moments that Jon knew he was seeing Rhaegar Targaryen in him.

One day upon his singing, his younger sister, Sansa Stark came upon him, she stood and listened to his song. At thirteen his voice was light, and still filled with childish youth, yet his song carried a gentle beauty to it. A beauty that had brought tears to her eyes, just as her aunt Lyanna had wept for Prince Rhaegar's song at the tourney of Harrenhal.

The two siblings had always had a strained relationship. Jon was distant and Sansa was Catelyn's precious child. She often filled Sansa's head with nonsense, in regards to Jon, and how a bastard was supposed to be.

After the first time she had heard him sing, Sansa started to spend time around the godswood, listening to Jon whenever he would go out and sing.

Having her often appear to listen to him sing, often reminded him of his past, and of his true sister, that he would return to one day. But of course, beyond the comfort of an audience, there were other benefits in gaining the adoration of the Stark's eldest daughter.

Jon started to slowly pay more attention to Sansa, staring at her from time to time, which would startle her and send her scampering away whenever she would be caught listening to him, or watching him. He'd began to sing more about the things that he knew Sansa liked. Songs about great knights. About kings and queens, and love. Songs that would make her blush and smile.

When he was fourteen, he approached where she was hiding, listening to his singing, silently handing her a flower and offering her a charming, and handsome smile. She couldn't bring herself to look at him for two days.

As he grew older, his ability to manipulate his handsome looks, and mysterious allure, drew the gazes of many an interested suitor. He had grown handsome, carrying the same wolfish features of his Stark Siblings, but with the beauty of a Targaryen added into the mix. He was quite good looking, well built, strong, lean, and carrying an allure that drew others' attention.

Jon never payed his potential suitors any mind. He had only eyes for one woman in this world. Everyone else, was simply a pawn. Friends, family, bed partners, all just tools to achieve his goals.

At fifteen he began to tease his younger sister, by leaving her secret gifts in places he knew she would be. Flowers, touching poems, and when he would sing, it would be about love, affection, romance. Things he knew would send her heart aflutter.

He was always aware of who was nearby whenever he worked his charms on Sansa. He never allowed Catelyn, Ned, Robb, or anyone in the castle to catch him. Sansa herself did her best to pretend like she wasn't thinking about him, like her beautiful, noble, and talented bastard half-brother wasn't constantly on her mind.

One time, he had been questioned by Theon about his apparent disinterest in the swooning women that would come to listen to him sing, or to watch him train in the yards. The Greyjoy lordling liked to make insinuations about Jon, that would often earn playful laughter from Robb who joined in on the teasing banter. Finally Theon demanded to know what kind of woman Jon was interested in.

Jon knew that Sansa was nearby and overheard their teasing, so Jon had smoothly countered that there were plenty of beautiful birds that he found interesting, but be they dark, light, or red of hair, he would never tell either of them. Unlike Theon, he wouldn't dare dishonor a fair maiden by boasting of his conquests in bed.

Theon chided him, while Robb let out a laugh at his overly honorable nature.

Jon had simply smiled, and said that when he found the beauty he was looking for, he'd never take his eyes off of her.

Theon offered him a bit of teasing at that, but Robb had defended him, admitting that, that was the noble way of going about it.

Theon simply shook his head, muttering that the two of them were still to young to understand but that they would one day. Women were fun, if you knew how to play their games.

Jon agreed that it could be fun to play such games, but he was far more interested in the chance to lay with his chosen woman, and spend his nights bedding her, honoring her, and running his hands through her hair.

Theon conceded then that Jon was a hopeless romantic. He suggested that maybe if he came out of the Godswood sometime, he'd actually find the woman he was looking for.

Jon had replied, that maybe one day she'd find her way to him.

Quickly the conversation turned away from love to more vocal pursuits, such as an upcoming hunt, Jon half payed attention as he caught out of the corner of his eye, Sansa walking past, playfully petting at her hair with a smile on her face. He knew exactly what she was imagining as she moved towards the castle.

His eyes tracked her for a moment long enough for her to glance back at him and notice him staring.

She looked away immediately when she met his gaze, hurrying away before he could spot the blush he knew would spread across her face.

Jon smirked, and chuckled to himself, neither Theon or Robb noticing what had happened, both busy poking fun at each other's abilities with a spear.

In the days that followed, Sansa started watching him more and more. And he began to reciprocate her curious gazes.

Her blushes, and her inability to stop herself from turning away, spoke volumes.

The eldest daughter of House Stark was quickly falling under his control. His conquest of the Stark household was a subtle thing, his friendship with Robb, Sansa's adoration, Arya's affections, little Bran and Rickon caring for him as their older brother.

Lady Catelyn was right to be worried about him. If she had any indication of his intentions for her children, she would have had him killed as a baby. More than likely, so would honorable Ned.

Not long afterwards, Jon cornered Sansa in her bedroom, late one evening. Having snuck in through the window and waiting for her to come to bed.

When she had arrived she nearly screamed in fright when she spotted him.

"What are you doing here?" She inquired, shyly, and wracked with nerves.

"This game we've been playing… it's been fun. But I've been growing restless watching you." Jon replied, causing her to blink and turn away from him, her cheeks flushing red.

"What… what are you talking about?" Sansa asked, as he approached her.

"Your affections for me, mine for you. We've been playing this game for a long time Sansa. What would your lady mother think if she knew all the times you've thought about me?" Jon responded, stepping in front of her. Sansa's eyes went wide at that and she tried to muster her courage, ready to counter his words, call him a liar, but just as she turned to face him again, he caught her face in his hands, and gently pressed his lips to hers.

Tingling excitement danced across her flesh, and butterflies swarmed her belly as she felt herself melt into her first kiss.

With no experience or any idea of how she was supposed to respond, all she could do was lean into the kiss, returning it.

The two remained locked together for several long moments. When they parted, Sansa had her eyes closed. A smile danced across her face, as fantastical images played through her mind. Her noble, kind, beautiful brother. So handsome, and charming, gentle and skilled. Everything she had ever dreamed of, in her knight in shining armor. For over a year now, her dreams of her charming prince, had always been of him.

In her eyes, his only fault was that he was a bastard. But in that way, it made it better, her affections for him. He was only her half-brother. She was young, and despite knowing it was wrong, and taboo, and would absolutely drive her mother crazy, slowly but surely, Sansa had found that she was only ever able to think about her bastard brother in that way.

Slowly, her eyes opened, and she found his silvery gray eyes staring back at her, that ever charming smile, spread across his lips.

A smile he reserved almost exclusively, for his family, and for her in particular. People called him brooding, and moping, but Sansa could see through that. He was such a kind and gentle soul. Peaceful, and shy. And slowly she had come to adore him, and now he had kissed her, confirming beyond any of her doubts that he felt the same way about her.

"Why did you do that?" She couldn't help but ask. The question needed to be out there, despite how much she wanted him to kiss her, and keep kissing her. Like in the story books, with the knights and their fair ladies.

"Because I wanted to. We're wolves, and wolves take what they want. Like I said… I'm tired of playing this game. I want you to know how I feel about you, so that there can be an understanding between us." Jon responded. Sansa's eyes fell to the ground, as her smile grew larger.

Jon stared at her, his gaze cool, and passionate. Such things, easily hid the raw power, and malice within him.

"_Such an adorable little thing, Sansa. Lilith always did love her playthings. And more than that, she loved her depravities. __A half-brother and sister, engaged in an incestuous affair, how scandalous, and utterly depraved." _Jon mused to himself.

"Wh-what happens now?" Sansa asked, eyeing him curiously.

"_Such innocence…" _Jon thought to himself he reached up and cradled her face.

"I could kiss you again?" He suggested, earning a blush and a quick nod.

With a smile he leaned in and kissed her again. As their lips tentatively danced, the Dark Lord filled his mind with images of this pure and innocent thing in his arms, and what he would do with it, when he presented it to his beloved twin.

This was new territory for him in this regard. He hoped that when they saw each other again, she may have regained some of, if not all of her memories from reading through his diary and drinking in the memories he had filled it with.

There was a distinct difference between Lilith and Morgoth, and that difference had to do with the physical. Morgoth had only known existence as a higher being, and didn't truly understand the pleasures of the flesh. In an odd way, that made her 'innocent'. In fact such physical things were a rarity on Middle-Earth. Things like Rape, Molestation, and Incest, were rarities. Despite the war torn nature of things. People were far more innocent on Middle-Earth. Less… real. Obviously that had been part of Eru's design, diminishing the sex drives of his creations, to help keep them in line. That's not to say such things didn't happen, because they most certainly did, but a look at Middle-Earth compared to Westoros or even his own world, and one would find a notable difference in the statistics.

Morgoth certainly didn't care for such things, in fact she was far more interested in the scandal and taboo of the acts, rather than the depravity and twisted nature behind them.

Lilith had such interests in the physical. Her various concubines, during her time as the Dark Lord, had proven such things in her past. It would be interesting to see. Either he would offer the innocent Sansa Stark to Lilith and she would twist her into a servant, or she would regain some of her more twisted tastes from her first life, and take Sansa for much more than just her servitude.

Which ever way it went, the loyal little wolf would accept it. He had secured her affections now, and when the time was right, he would secure her undying loyalty and devotion.

For now, she was good practice. This body was still new, and relearning his old tricks would be fun. Either he'd return to his sister, and she'd remember enough of her past to regain some of her old desires, in which case he and Lilith would be able to do more than just kiss, or she wouldn't in which case, he would have the perfect little plaything to handle those physical needs.

He would secure Robb's allegiance through friendship, and hold it, with Sansa as his.

The following nights saw a repeat of their kissing games. He would sneak into her room late at night and the two would kiss. During the daytime Sansa would avoid him, taking on more of her mother's disdain towards him, but it was all just a ruse. Sansa would practically leap into his arms some nights, as they kissed and hugged, and engaged in very light petting.

The Dark Lord was patient, especially when it came to twisting the minds of his servants.

Time passed, Jon was sixteen now. With each passing day he spent his time improving his skills. During the day he would train in the yard, improving his weapon skills. It didn't take him long to get used to the weight and shape of his new body. Whether with a sword, a bow, or a spear, Jon practiced his skills, reteaching his muscles how to move. In the light of day he worked on his form. In the shadow of night, he would vanish into the crypts and practice his full abilities, magic, swordplay, and now that his body was reaching maturity, he began to get reacquainted with his shape-shifting abilities. First was simple things like hair and eye color. Than it became full body transformations.

When he was fourteen, a servant from Moat Cailin traveled to the woods outside of Winterfell where he left a magical chest that only Jon could open. Within said trunk were several items that had been placed there in advance to be returned to Jon after taking his new body.

These items were the three Deathly Hallows, as well as several personal items that had been kept for years, in a safe place, including Lilith's staff from her first life, her original wand as well, Harry Potter's original holly, and phoenix feather wand, his faithful wand holster, and his own two-way mirror for connecting with Lilith.

Two swords lay crisscrossed inside, the Sword of Gryffindor, and a black steel sword, inscribed with ancient red runes, the sword had been wielded by Lilith during her first reign as dark lord, and it had presumably been forged by her as well. It had been named Ira, meaning Wrath in Latin.

Each one of these items would have been easily recognized by Eru if seen so he had kept them hidden. Here in Westoros though, he was free to use them.

Retrieving his old Holly wand and holster, he had tested it to make sure it still worked with him. He had then retrieved the Cloak of Invisibility and then shrunk the chest and had it on his person at all times.

Often it would be kept in a satchel that was warded with magic so that only Jon could remove items from within it. He could also summon the satchel if he needed too from nearly anywhere.

That had been nearly two years ago, and since then he returned to form, reteaching his body all of the wand movements and the like, that made spells easier. With the Cloak of Invisibility, he easily slipped around the castle, leaving when he wanted to, to return to Moat Cailin to check up on his servants there.

It wouldn't be long until he would head north to return to his beloved Twin and see what she had gotten up to in the last decade and a half. Despite desperately wanting to, he kept himself from contacting her on his two-way mirror. He wanted to see her in person, show her his new body. If there was one thing that had him giddy and nervous, it was how she would react to his new body.

Now he was sixteen. His skills with magic had returned to their original levels. His body showed no signs of degradation or decay from his magic. He had regained his martial skill and reflexes and was easily the best fighter in the Seven Kingdoms. Everything seemingly, had worked perfectly.

He was very close to the future lord of House Stark, Robb. He had Sansa wrapped around his finger. Arya adored him and wanted to be just like him. Bran treated him like a brother and looked up to him, and so did Rickon. He had most definitely fostered good relations with the Starks, despite Catelyn's best efforts. Even Theon wasn't so bad when you got past his arrogance. After all he was the heir to the Greyjoy lordship, which was another ally to add to their cause.

All and all, things had worked out splendidly so far.

One day, seemingly out of nowhere, Lord Stark had called for Robb, Theon, Bran, and himself to join with him as he went to deal with a captured runaway from the Night's Watch.

Jon could barely contain his giddiness as the captured Black brother, uttered terrified warnings of monsters beyond the wall. Horrible misshapen, flesh-eating, monsters. He did what he could to warn Lord Stark of a horrible evil beyond the wall. The haunted look in his eyes, and his ghostly pale visage was enough to unnerve Lord Stark.

Regardless of the warning though, Eddard executed him as a deserter. On their way back to Winterfell, they came across a dead stag in the road. It had been torn to pieces by something. Down in the forest, not far from the corpse, lay the body of a mother direwolf. An antler having pierced her throat, killing the mighty beast.

Five direwolf pups were found with the body. Jon was able to save their lives by reminding lord Stark that the Direwolf was a sigil of House Stark, and there was five of them, one for each of the Stark children. A sure sign from the gods, that they were meant to have them.

Ned accepted that. Before they could depart though, a sixth pup was found, pure white, and the runt of the litter.

Theon had jokingly proclaimed that, that pup belonged to Jon. While Jon pretended to be annoyed, on the inside, he found himself pleasantly surprised and took in the pup to raise.

Unlike the other pups who were noisy and loud, his was quiet, almost silent most of the time. Rarely did he howl, and beyond that, he almost never made a sound. Jon had decided to name him Ghost.

Having his own direwolf to raise, encouraged Jon to enter the next stage of his transformation training. Regaining his Animagus abilities. In his youth, he had the ability to shape shift into a snake. The addition of basilisk venom, phoenix tears, and a bite from a werewolf, altered his Animagus form. He had two different primary forms. One was a Basilisk, and the other, was a werewolf, but unlike normal werewolves, his wolf form was different, far stronger, and more controlled, and he could turn at will. The phoenix tears were what allowed him so much control over the inner beast, and the latent Basilisk venom, negated the worst affects of lycanthrope.

His ability to assume these shapes was tied to the mutations to his magic, caused by these powerful magical agents, and those alterations remained, even without the agents still in his body. With great difficulty, he was able to work his body into those shapes, regaining his Basilisk form first, and then taking on his werewolf form.

Once able to change into a wolf at will, he began to run the forests with Ghost, pack bonding with him.

It was these short few weeks of additional training that sparked an idea in the reborn Dark Lord. Stark's had the dormant blood of the wolf in them. What better way to ensure their loyalty, then to awaken that blood, making werewolves of the lot of them, reforging his ancient pack.

Not long afterwards, word reached Winterfell that the Hand of the King, Jon Arryn was dead, and that the king was now riding north. It didn't take a genius to guess what he wanted from this cold, desolate part of the world.

It would most definitely be of interest to see how this played out. For now though, he had work to do.

A month passed before the king arrived Jon was thankful for Lady Catelyn's resentment for him, as it meant that he didn't have to present himself to the fat king. He watched the King's arrival from one of the towers, his eyes alight with anticipation and rage. Robert Baratheon had stolen the throne that rightfully belonged to him, now he had to kill the overweight fool, and take it back.

That night, a feast was held in honor of the king's arrival. Jon was persona non grata, thanks to Catelyn, but again, it was of no real issue. He spent the night, training in the yard, pretending to be upset by the slight. In reality, it just gave him a good reason to hit something that wasn't the King. If Jon had wanted to, he could have stormed the great hall, and murdered King Robert with ease, the only weapon that had any sort of magical properties was Ice, but there was no one with the skill to wield it efficiently enough to put up even a fighting chance against him.

No. He wouldn't be rash about this. He'd take his time, have his fun. He'd make the Stag King suffer before the end.

"And what are you doing out here?" Came the question from Tyrion Lannister, the Imp.

Jon was busy practicing, hearing the little lord disturbing his practice, he let out a sigh, and turned to face him.

"I'm training." Jon said to the little man.

"I can see that. I'm more so interested in why you're training when there is food and wine to be had?" Tyrion responded, eyeing the bastard of Winterfell with a curious gaze in his mismatched eyes.

"Bastards aren't welcome at a king's feast." Jon replied, a dangerous glint in his eye as he turned back towards his training post.

"Did I offend you? Sorry. So you're the Stark Bastard." Tyrion stated, eyeing him curiously.

"I am. An interesting title. Not the first bastard of a Stark, and I wont be the last." Jon replied, his gaze focused on the training dummy.

"May I offer you some advice, bastard?" Tyrion inquired.

Jon glanced back at him, his wintry gaze, piercing and mighty. Had Tyrion not been drunk already, perhaps he would have noticed.

"Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you." Tyrion offered.

"I guess a dwarf would know best." Jon responded, earning a rueful smile from Tyrion.

"And we do." Tyrion confirmed as he turned and headed off, leaving Jon to continue his training.

Later that night, he waited for Sansa in her room, she entered and when she saw him, she tensed, and her eyes fell to the ground. Jon knew immediately that something was wrong. She was nervous, upset, doing her best to cover it up and pretend that she wasn't.

"What's wrong?" Jon asked, crossing the room and placing his hands on her shoulders.

"Father… Father says I am to marry Prince Joffrey." Sansa said to him, tears beginning to build in her eyes. It was apparent that she'd been holding this back all night.

"You don't want to marry him?" Jon inquired.

"No." Sansa replied, wrapping her arms around him, hugging him as tears began to fall from her eyes.

"He's a prince." Jon noted.

"He's not you." She muttered quietly.

Jon was silent for several long moments as he stared down at her. Slowly, he brought a hand to her chin, raising her face so that she could look him in the eyes.

"It's alright, Sansa. Everything will be alright. Do you trust me?" Jon asked, his eyes locked with hers.

"Yes." Sansa replied, her voice quiet and filled with adoration and affection.

"_Foolish girl."_ Jon smiled as he leaned in, pressing his lips to hers. She returned the kiss, far more hungrily than she ever had. His hands slowly drifted to the clasps on her dress, unhooking them, loosening her outfit.

"Jon…?" Sansa whispered, fear, hesitation, and excitement, echoing through her voice, across her face, and in her gaze.

Jon smiled, grinning a wolfish grin, as he placed his lips back to hers, his hands slowly pulling at her dress until it loosened and fell free, leaving her only in her small clothes. She was tense, her body shaking, she definitely wasn't ready for where this was going, but she couldn't stop herself.

She felt his hands unclasp her undergarment. As he slid it off of her, revealing her bare flesh, he felt her shaking grow more severe.

He began to trail away from her lips, kissing across her cheek, and then down to her neck. Her breathing began to grow more rapid as his arms slid around her. One hand was placed on the middle of her naked back, the other rested on her bare hips. She felt him moving her as he kissed at her neck, walking her away from her clothes towards the center of the room.

"Do you trust me?" She heard him whisper as he continued kissing her.

"Ye-yes." Sansa whimpered, pleasure dancing across her body like lightning.

"Good… I promise you Sansa…" He began, a smile started forming on her face, as fantasies filled her mind. Oaths of love, declarations of undying affection. Perhaps they would run away together, live in love and bliss. She'd take care of him, and he would love her, and protect her, and shower her with affection.

In was in that single moment that a dozen different fantasies played out in her head. She felt the hand on her back rise up, gently taking strands of her hair, pulling them aside, so that nothing was between him and her neck, where he trailed kisses from her jaw to her collarbone.

"…This is going to hurt more than anything you could possibly image. But… afterwards… you'll know what it means to be free." He whispered in her ear.

He didn't need to see her face, to know that she had been broken out of her fantasies, confused by his words.

Jon grinned devilishly, as she began to speak.

"Wh-" Sansa didn't make it past the first syllable, as Jon barred his teeth, and bit deeply into the flesh of her neck and shoulder.

Sansa let out a cry, her body now shaking as she felt burning hot blood erupt from her shoulder, and pour down her flesh.

She felt Jon pull back, his face coming into view. His eyes lit up like Emerald flames, blood dripping from his lips.

He smiled at her, a ravenous, monstrous grin. Before leaning in, his lips, meeting with hers.

She was in shock, her mind in disbelief. She felt herself growing weaker and weaker, her vision fading. The thick taste of blood on his lips was sickening. She wanted to vomit.

Her mind was breaking in two, disbelief, heartbreak, anger, pain. All filled her body, but none more so than sickening pleasure. The sparks of electricity that danced across her body, were utterly amazing, it built and built dancing rapidly, building in her chest, and then exploding outward across her whole body, only to bounce back to her chest once more to repeat.

To her disbelief, she moaned into the kiss, and felt him grin, her blood still hot on his lips.

She felt her vision fade more and more. His face became blurry, her room faded into colors of gray and brown. The only thing that remained clear, was the burning green flames, that were his eyes.

After only a few seconds, Sansa passed out, her body going limp in his arms.

Jon slowly lowered her to the ground, setting her on the floor of her room, where he knelt down beside her and stared at her seemingly lifeless body, as blood flowed freely from the deep wound on her shoulder.

For nearly a full five minutes she continued to bleed, growing paler and paler, until slowly, color returned to her.

Jon smirked to himself, as he saw her wound begin to heal over, morphing into a twisted scar.

Sansa laid there for several moments, when suddenly she took in a sharp breath of air, so hard and gasping that her back arched and her body began to spasm painfully.

Jon remained quiet as he watched her thrash about. A smirk spread across his face as she began to calm down, her eyes beginning to glow, a cerulean blue.

Slowly, sickeningly, she sat up, her eyes locked straight ahead of her, she was breathing heavily, as if tasting the air. Then she breathed in through her nose, her eyes widening.

Silence filled the room as her gaze slowly turned to him. Jon smirked, Sansa's eyes flashed with anger, betrayal, and lust.

With an animalistic snarl she leaped at him, trying to claw at his face, and bite at his exposed throat. He caught her by the throat, still smirking.

"I told you it would hurt." Jon noted, letting out a chuckle, as he locked eyes with her. He could see the changes already taking hold. Her wolfish blood activating. She was slowly changing, right before his eyes. Her teeth elongated, her features grew sharper and more feral, her strength increased far beyond human levels.

Jon let out a snort of amusement, as she snarled at him, like a wild animal.

Without fear or hesitance, he leaned forward and planted his lips on hers. She retreated for a moment, her face filled with disbelief, confusion, and shock.

He smiled, that charming gentle smile of his.

She lunged forward, her lips crashing into his. She ceased her attempts to claw at him, instead grabbing his shoulders, and holding him tightly as they wrestled for dominance. Suddenly, Jon Apparated them out of the castle using the cover of night to transport them deep into the nearby forest.

As soon as they arrived, Jon shoved Sansa off of him, rising to his feet and backing away, his smile morphing into a devilish grin, as his emerald gaze grew more intense.

Sansa pursued him, stalking forward like a beast. Despite being completely nude, she seemed unaffected by the cold night weather.

Jon continued to back away from her, leading her further and further into the shadow of the forest.

She followed him, quickly catching up, grabbing him and kissing him, only to be pushed back again. She let out a snarl of frustration and stalked after him, her features growing more wolfish as she did.

Jon backed up into the shadow of a large tree.

Sansa pursued him, only to stop when a monstrous snarl emerged from the shadows.

Broken from her lustful trance, she backed away, startled and fearful.

Out of the shadows, emerged a wolf-like creature. Standing on all fours he was six feet tall, covered in raven black fur, Jon's werewolf form was a sight to behold. Large, muscular, agile in appearance. It walked on all fours, with wider, longer, wolfish hind legs, while it's front legs were more like human arms. He had five fingers and on each one was a claw, each claw nearly as long as a hunting knife.

His wolfish maw was filled with razor sharp teeth as long as Sansa's fingers.

Even on all fours, he towered over the young girl. She continued to back away from the beast as it stalked towards her. Suddenly the beast stopped it's advance, it snarled at her, it's glowing green eyes, piercing right through her body. The beast suddenly reared back, squatting on it's hind legs like a man could.

Standing up right, the beast further towered over her, making the young girl appear even smaller than she had been before. Suddenly the beast through back it's head and howled at the moon.

Sansa slowly raised her head towards the sky, her eyes finding the crescent moon, hanging high in the heavens. Without realizing it, she found herself howling as well, howling at the moon like a wolf.

Within Winterfell, almost in unison, the Stark Direwolves began to howl as well. They were soon joined by every canine for miles, all howling into the heavens.

Were the feast not still dragging on, more would have taken notice of the strange and sudden event, but they didn't notice. None noticed that Sansa Stark was no missing from her room, and none noticed the dread aura that began to permeate the forests, as the Lord of Wolves, claimed his first pack mate.

_**-To be continued-**_

_***1: His form and the form of all future werewolves, will be similar in design to the Scourge Beasts from Bloodborne, with only a few noteworthy differences such as size, speed, or special characteristics.**_

_**Alright, how was that, hope you all enjoyed the fun of this chapter, and seeing Jon/Sauron begin to reform his private forces and mold the Starks into his servants. I hope I got across here how dark, and demented and manipulative, Harry/Jon/Sauron is. Playing at being the kind brother, all the while seduce Sansa and ultimately turning her into a werewolf. I hope everyones having a good time, and I hope to hear what you all thought. Any questions or concerns, feel free to leave a review or send me a pm, will happily clear up anything you need me too, or answer any questions.**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Alright, here's the next chapter, hope you all enjoy. **_

**Darkness Reborn**

**Chapter 6**

Sansa awoke with a start, visions of bloodletting and howling filling her mind's eye as she shot upright.

Her eyes quickly adjusted to the surrounding woods. The sun just starting to peak over the horizon left everything bathed in darkness.

Leaves and mud pressed against her bare skin, and the cold danced across her flesh but didn't seem to pierce it.

Her eyes danced to and fro, until lowering to her body.

Her eyes widened in horror. Dried blood caked her legs, her stomach, her chest. Her arms were dyed nearly black from blood and dirt, up to the elbows. Gore could be seen under her nails, and even now she could taste the harsh iron of blood upon her lips.

"Awake?" A familiar voice inquired. Sansa turned sharply, her gaze falling onto her half-brother. Jon Snow.

She stared at him wide eyed and in shock for several long moments before it sunk in that she was completely naked.

Her arms moved to cover herself and she shrunk away from him, her mind trying desperately to recall where she was, and how she had gotten here.

Jon simply laughed at her, tilting his head and eyeing her with a curious gaze.

"Jon..." Sansa began, her mind taking her back to her bedroom, where he had been waiting. Where he had started to undress her, and to where he had bitten her.

Her hand quickly shot to her shoulder, and her eyes fell down. There, upon her right shoulder, in the soft flesh was a visible scar in the form of a bite mark. The teeth though were all wrong, too sharp to have been human.

That's when her mind began to race, remembering waking up after feeling so cold. Waking up and feeling strong. Stronger than she ever had. Waking up and feeling desires, needs that she desperately tried to force Jon to fulfill. Than she was suddenly in the forest… and he… changed.

Her eyes slowly rose to him, and he smirked back, a predatory smirk. Malicious, cruel, and absolutely enticing. Almost like he knew what she was thinking, almost like he could see into her very soul.

His eyes flashed like emerald fire, a more vibrant green than she had ever seen. Her mind was filled with so many thoughts. Anger, despair, terror, confusion, lust, fear. All danced in her mind. What had he done to her? What had she done in response?

Her eyes remained locked on him for several long moments as she started to crawl away. This was to confusing, to terrifying, she had to run away, had to tell someone. He had bitten her, tore her open, made her bleed. She should run, flee as far and as fast as she could before he hurt her again.

Her heart tore apart at the thought. She had to run, he had hurt her, nearly killed her. But she didn't want to run, her eyes trailed across his face, finding themselves drawn to his lips, she wanted to kiss him again. To hold him and be held in return. A thousand thoughts boiled inside of her, and in response, her head began to ache.

"You're confused. I don't blame you. You had one hell of night." Jon muttered, glancing over to something nearby.

Sansa slowly followed his gaze, as they settled upon the most disgusting sight, she had ever seen.

There, not twenty feet away, was the corpse of a doe. This doe had been torn to shreds, it was missing two of it's legs, it's guts were spread out across the forest floor, it's head had nearly been ripped clean from it's body, several of it's ribs were jutting out awkwardly, as if it had been struck by something large and heavy.

The only word that seemed to properly convey this creature's death, was that is had been slaughtered.

Her eyes shot back to Jon, than down to her own blood-soaked body, than back to Jon.

"That's a good look for you. Naked, covered in blood." Jon noted with a wolfish grin. Her eyes filled with fear at his words, and she felt sickness finally begin to manifest in the pit of her gut.

From nearby, a growl was heard, it was low and long. Sansa's eyes snapped to the sound, as a small wolf emerged from nearby. It took her only a moment to realize that it was Ghost. Blood soaked as she was, and against his pure white fur, it stood out clearly for her to see.

"What did you do to me?" Sansa muttered fearfully, her eyes drifting back towards Jon.

"I made you a werewolf. I gave you the power to control your own destiny." Jon responded.

"You bit me..." Sansa said quietly.

"You didn't want to marry Joffrey. So I gave you the strength to make your own choice. Sorry, but I did warn you it would hurt." Jon responded with a light chuckle.

"What are you?" She asked, her eyes locked onto the green glow of his eyes.

"I'm a monster, Sansa. Don't you remember?" Jon inquired, images of the giant wolf-like creature stalking out of the shadows, flashing in her mind.

Jon approached her, as she tried to slink away, terrified and whimpering. His look was monstrous, and feral, like he could attack her at any moment. He knelt by her side, and danced his fingers across her shoulder, causing her to shrink away from him and begin to shake.

He let out a snort of amusement and settled his hand on her shoulder. With a smirk, he apparated the two of them, back to her room. She fell to the floor letting out a cry of fear and surprise, quickly she crawled away from him, scampering across the floor to safety.

She found rest against a wall, her mind reeling from the sudden transportation.

Jon let out another laugh, and with a wave of his hand, vanished the dried blood from the floor, left over from the night before. He then used magic to remove all traces of the blood and grime from Sansa's body.

With all evidence of what happened removed, he approached her, and knelt down next to her.

"You've got two choices set out before you, Sansa. You can resist me, run away, hide, and I'll find you. You can tell your parents, and they'll forget the moment the words leave your mouth. You can run and get the guards, and I'll tear them to shreds, and make you watch. Or… you can join me. And I will show you what it means to be strong. You're a true wolf now Sansa, and wolves do not bow to the whims of sheep." Jon whispered to her, before rising to his feet with another wave of his hand, Sansa slumped, unconscious. He stared down at her for several long moments before redressing her, placing a glamour on her scar to hide it, and placing her in her bed.

The first part of his plan, set, he knew full well she wasn't going to tell anyone. Her fear and uncertainty would keep her in check. By putting her to sleep, she would awaken with memories of what had happened, but she wouldn't know for certain if it was true. She'd doubt herself, convince herself that it was all a dream, or a terrible nightmare.

As was the way of humans, especially those in denial.

He had planted the seeds with his affections, and now with this, she would one day be forced to choose. Her wolf blood would grow stronger and stronger, with every full moon, until finally she couldn't control herself anymore. She would start to change. She would slaughter and kill, without control, and she'd be forced to come to him for guidance.

But for now, doubt would allow her to hide in plain sight, and act as his agent.

After all, while dominating one's mind was one thing, and could gain a useful servant, it was when they chose to follow you, than they became truly loyal. A bit of encouragement along the way though, never hurts.

Besides that, he needed Sansa to be afraid of him for now. She would choose to walk with him in the shadows, eventually. But for now, he needed her to want to go south with her father. As one of his pack, Jon could now communicate with her via the connection forged between them when he turned her. In the south, she would, knowingly, or otherwise, serve as his agent, feeding him information on what was happening in the capital. And when the time was right, he could unleash her, and use her to cause all sorts of mayhem.

The girl was useful, but she wasn't overly skilled. The lessons a good spy would need to know in order for her to act as his agent, he didn't have the time to teach her, and Sansa was still a child, and prone to making mistakes. She would hide what happened to her, out of fear of him, and uncertainty of whether it had actually happened or not. In the future though, it would become obvious that something was wrong, and she'd be forced to seek him out, no longer able to deny her dreams, but until then, business as usual was the way to go.

Luckily, Jon had the perfect excuse to make himself scarce here in Winterfell. With the King around, he was certain no one would raise a fuss if he slipped out of sight for a few days, and so long as he acted with the right amount of confusion at Sansa's uncertainty, and fear of him, he knew she'd begin to doubt herself even more.

For now, she would serve as an unwitting pawn, in the future she'd be a powerful tool, but at the moment, Sansa would be far more useful if she didn't know she was feeding him information.

That day, and for many to come, Sansa avoided Jon like the plague. Just as he anticipated she didn't tell anyone what had happened to her, and with his glamour hiding her scar, even she began to doubt that it was anything more than a dream. Slowly, over time, the scar faded away until it would be no longer visible, but until then, Jon could use his magic to maintain the illusion.

Sansa herself would tense up whenever he was near, but that was a rarity. In fact, at some point she began to wonder why he seemed so distant all of sudden.

One day, she finally had to muster the courage to approach him, she was nervous, and fearful, and she asked why he was avoiding her. She had been waiting to see that same devious grin from her dreams, or the emerald flame of his eyes, but instead he sighed and shook his head.

Telling her that he thought it would be easier this way. If they put distance between each other, then when she went south to marry Prince Joffrey, it wouldn't be so heartbreaking.

Sansa had been left stunned by his answer, and would later conclude that at least some of her 'dream' had actually been true. Her finding him in her room after the feast, telling him that she was going to marry the prince, even him kissing her, but where did real life end and the dream begin?

She didn't know, but it filled her with more doubt about her dream. She was now more certain than before that it had been nothing more than a twisted nightmare of some sort.

The two maintained their distance from one another, Sansa more sullen then before, as her fear faded.

Everything worked out just as Jon expected it too. Humans were so predictable, and having been one of them, once upon a time, made his manipulations of mankind much more effective than other races. The elves loved to boast that they were more hardy to such manipulations, that men were weak-willed. What they didn't understand was that Sauron had once been human, and knew the human mind, better then he did elves or dwarves. That was what made them easier to manipulate, there was no greater inborn resistance to such things. The elves that were twisted by Lilith were proof enough of that.

Regardless, for now, Sansa was following his plans for her, perfectly, and he had plenty of time to use her as his agent before she turned completely.

Her form of lycanthropy was different from the disease that had plagued his world as Harry Potter. Instead of turning during the full moon, she could actually turn at will, once all of the changes were upon her. For now, the disease would slowly take hold, making her more aggressive, stronger, more agile, and immune to sickness, and death by any non-magical weapons.

At night, she would dream of the hunt, her mind taking her to the forest, where she would feast on animals, and people to her heart's content. During the day, she would be normal, at least for the first few months. But slowly she'd become more feral, aggressive, angry, territorial, more wolf-like in general. During the full moons, she'd be unable to sleep, and the call to hunt and kill would be at it's strongest. Her powers would also fully manifest during the full moon, whether she wanted them too or not.

He would have to have agents follow her South to make sure her secret was kept. But they'd do nothing to help her tame the beast, no if she wanted control, she would have to come to him.

For now, it seems she was back to her old self, doing what she could to hide how depressed she was at having to leave without him.

Things were seemingly going as planned until Bran suddenly fell from one of the towers.

It was such a sudden and jarring thing. Luckily he had managed to survive, and under the Invisibility Cloak, Jon was able to sneak in, and read the boy's mind. The memories were fragmented and locked away, but Jon got a clear look and what had happened.

Queen Cersei and her twin brother, Ser Jaime, caught fucking in one of the towers. Ser Jaime being the one to shove Bran out of the tower, nearly to his death.

"_How scandalous."_ Jon though with amusement, when he learned.

He could sympathize with their urges, after all, he knew better than most how it was to love your twin.

Still though, the Starks would make powerful werewolves one day, so having them killed off, at least the younger ones, wasn't part of the plan. He'd have to keep an eye on the situation, to make sure nothing more was attempted.

Eventually the time came for Ned and King Robert to depart south, back to King's Landing. Jon made it clear, around the time of their departure, that he had no intentions of remaining in Winterfell any longer. He was going exploring. That had been his excuse. It had earned an amused chuckle from Robb, but the new lord of Winterfell, wasn't about to stop him, knowing how much Jon hated being stuck in the castle.

While it obviously made Ned nervous, he was no longer really in a position to tell Jon, no. It was nice seeing the Quiet Wolf so nervous in the days leading up to their departure. When Sansa had heard, she feigned disinterest, but in reality spent most of the night hiding in her room, crying her eyes out, it finally settling in that they may not see each other again for a very long time.

Arya was sad, but also excited for him. Telling him that one day, she'd join him on his adventures. As thanks and to encourage her fiery nature, Jon had a small sword made for her. A light, thin blade, that would fit her size.

When she started to reach maturity in a few years time, Jon would find her, and turn her into a werewolf, but for now, he'd leave her be.

Before departing, in the cold of night, Jon snuck into Robb's room, infecting him with lycanthropy as well. Jon spent the night with Robb, Grey Wind and Ghost, hunting in the forests outside of Winterfell, and just like with Sansa, come morning, Jon made sure that Robb would awaken thinking it all a dream.

Jon's departure from Winterfell, came alongside the departure of the King's entourage. He had a touching goodbye with Robb, and Arya. Offering a silent goodbye to the still unconscious Bran. A quick goodbye with little Rickon, and finally with Sansa, he approached her the morning before they were meant to depart, offering her the gift of a beautiful mirror he claimed to have bought from town.

In reality the mirror was a two-way mirror, much like the ones he and Lilith shared. He intended to use the mirror to actively spy on her, as the mirror itself was always active, allowing him to hear everything that was said around it.

Jon could see that she was fighting the urge to kiss him one final time. To complete the image of a kind, noble, valiant brother, instead of kissing her on the lips, Jon hugged her and placed a kiss upon her forehead. A noble and kind act, to paint an image of him in her mind, one that contrasted with the nightmare that never truly faded.

It would be this contrast that would draw her back to him one day.

Time was of little concern. This plan had been in the works for centuries, the fall of the kingdoms of men could wait a bit longer.

Jon traveled with their caravan for a short while until reaching the King's Road. Once there, he intended to go north, along with his Uncle Benjen, and Tyrion Lannister, under the pretext of seeing the Wall.

"So… this is where we go our separate ways." Ned noted as the two groups began to split off.

"It would seem so." Jon responded coolly.

"Any plans for after you see the Wall?" Ned inquired, gazing at him inquisitively.

"Maybe I'll head south, see what kind of trouble I can find for myself. Or maybe I'll go to Essos. I'm not really sure. Being free to forge your own destiny is a gift, few men are given in life. I intend to make the most of it. The greatest gift of being a Snow. Nothing at all is expected of me. So long as I don't cause any problems for my true-born siblings, or my Lord Father, I'm free to do as I please." Jon responded, earning a grimace from Ned, sensing the underlying jab at the end of Jon's reply.

"You are a Stark, Jon. You may not have my name, but you have my blood." Ned said to him.

"I know." Jon replied, offering him a smile.

"Winterfell will always be your home. When the time comes, I'm sure you'll find your way back." Ned offered.

"Take care of yourself, Lord Stark." Jon responded.

"You as well, Jon." Ned said to him.

Jon nodded to him, turning his horse and riding after Benjen's company. As he made his way away from Lord Stark, he began to sing. His voice carrying out a song in elvish. The song itself, was actually a poem, meant to represent the danger's of the unknown, but Jon devilishly sang it in a merry tone. Enjoying the looks he got from those around, most assuming he was speaking gibberish.

He had some interesting discussions with Tyrion Lannister as they made their way north, aside from that, little else of note occurred. Eventually, they arrived at Castle Black. There Jon had the enjoyment of meeting some of the Black brothers, including Jeor Mormont, and Ser Alliser Thorne, though he did get the chance to meet Maester Aemon, an old Targaryen, who had become a maester a long time ago.

Jon spent the majority of his time there, standing atop the wall, gazing out into the North. From atop the wall, his gaze pierced through the winter landscape, deep into the land's beyond, where he knew Lilith's army was pushing south.

The time had come for him to return to his beloved sister. The excitement of such a prospect left him grinning for days, so much so that it earned great annoyance from individuals like Ser Alliser, who took every opportunity available to make sure Jon knew he wasn't wanted on the Wall, and that the Ser was not impressed by him in the slightest.

One day, seemingly out of nowhere, Jon departed over the wall with Ghost. His final preparations complete, with word reaching him from his forces at Moat Cailin that the king had passed by and some of the men there had joined the entourage in heading south. Among them would be individuals, who's purpose would be to keep an eye on Sansa, and keep her secret from getting out.

Since his departure from the Red Keep, no one had seen Annatar, and Moat Cailin was left in the hands of his servants, who continued to serve the North in his name, even with their lord's absence.

Now knowing that his servants had done their jobs, Jon Apparated over the wall and into the Land's of Always Winter.

His excitement nearly caused his body to begin shaking. He hoped Lilith would enjoy his new body, and he also hoped that at least some of her memories may have come back to her, as the diary he had left, contained his side of many of their shared memories, allowing her to view them, and experience them, as if she were there.

He hadn't seen her in sixteen years, the longest the two of them had gone without speaking, since being reunited centuries ago.

As he came closer to Tantibus Arcis, his eyes widened in excitement. The massive citadel was hidden within a near unending blizzard, within the storm though, the fires of war and industry bellowed outward.

As he moved towards the main tower, his eyes danced across the massive walled battlements and the great pits dug into the earth. Deep in these pits, he could see thousands of bodies, moving and working. Mining, digging, forging.

Great columns of steam rose from the massive pits, fires set by an unknown source, burned unceasingly, fueling the orc war machine.

Across the frozen surface, tens of thousands of wights, worked ceaselessly, constructing further battlements, towers, walls, forts. They never stopped, never tired. The few humans that resided within the dread fortress, knew their fate if they stepped out of line, even once. A gruesome death, followed immediately by being raised as an eternal servant of the Dark Lady of the Far North.

Jon arrived within the main tower, appearing before his sister's throne, set in a wide open hall, overlooking the fortress.

The hall itself was empty, and much to his delight he found her there, quietly sleeping upon her throne, forged of blackened rock.

Jon stared at her for a few moments, a pleasant smile crossing his face. That was so very like her, in both her lives. Always able to sleep, even in the seemingly most uncomfortable of positions.

Jon approached her, stepping quietly towards her slumbering form, careful not to wake her.

Once before her, he dropped silently to a knee, and then to a sitting position. For hours he sat, quietly watching her. Taking in her slumbering beauty. A hopeless romantic he might be, but also of note was his sister's temper. She enjoyed dreaming and didn't like to be awoken when she didn't have to be.

As he waited for her to awaken, he allowed himself to bask in memories of their childhood, of the days they would spend together, locked in their little closet under the stairs. How they would practice their magic, and speak to the insects, pretending they could speak back. It was a more innocent time, despite it's hardships. Sometimes he wondered if it were possible to go back to those days, back to when things were so much more gentle.

Slowly, she began to stir, breaking him out of his musings. Her eyes slowly opened, revealing deep emerald irises. Jon's heart nearly leaped out of his chest when he saw the green of her eyes, the same green they had shared when they were children. The green eyes she had lost, during her time as Melkor.

Those emerald green eyes, were the eyes of Lilith, his Lilith.

"Lilith?" Jon whispered her name. Her eyes quickly focused on him, for a moment, they analyzed him, taking in his new face, his new body. Than, her eyes ignited into hellfire, a blazing orange filling them as she rose to her feet, a devilish smile spreading across her face.

"Hello, baby brother." She stated in such a way that Jon felt shivers pass down his spine. Such a familiar address, in a way that reminded him of their shared past, of his life as Harry Potter.

With great speed she shot off of her throne, seizing him by the neck, and lifting him into the air.

Jon felt pressure crush against his throat, and felt her raw power assail his body. If she wanted to, she could unleash said power and tear his form apart. Despite their shared past, she had always been stronger than him, and over the years, that power difference only grew. Even now, after all these years, the secret to her source of power was still a mystery to him.

"I'm guessing that means you have your memory back?" Jon gasped out, looking down into her eyes.

"Indeed. Baby brother." She replied, throwing him across the room. He landed in the center of the hall, nearly twenty meters away. He let out a grunt of annoyance, and rose to a knee, but kept his head down, bowed in submission as he felt her approach.

"Two hundred and seventy four years, we fought. Nearly three centuries of nothing but hatred between us. And at the end of it all, you killed me. Now… it's been eons… and you've done nothing but serve me… why is that? Guilt? Masochism?" Lilith inquired, her voice calm, but with a deadly edge to it.

Internally, Jon cringed. This should have been expected. Perhaps in his hope for her memories to return, he should have also taken into account that there was two ways she could see such memories.

She would either remember as Melkor, or she would awaken as Lilith. It seems she experienced the latter. Feeling her original identity, coming back to the forefront of who she was. Not to say there was any real difference between them. Lilith and Melkor had always been mirror images of each other, the only difference was Melkor viewed things as a higher being and without many ties to the physical, while Lilith viewed things as a survivor, who crawled up from nothing. They were both arrogant, both temperamental, both desired to create great things, and forge a better world, both had iron wills, and incredible intelligence, both hated to sing, but loved music, both enjoyed being held, both enjoyed the quiet, both loved to explore, and experience life. They had always been the same person in his mind. Lilith or Melkor, it didn't matter. Who she had been and who she was, all that separated the two was a different starting point.

From the looks of things, Lilith was back, the true Lilith. And while that excited him to no end, he couldn't forget that her last memories of him, in fact most of her memories of him, were of the two of them as enemies, and at the end of it, her last memory, he held her in his arms, as she bled to death from a wound struck by him.

She was furious, he could tell. The tower was shaking as she approached him. If he looked outside, he knew he'd see a raging storm enveloping the entire fortress.

Another thing that separated the two, which made him a bit more nervous, Melkor was far more powerful than Lilith had been, and that said a lot, considering she nearly destroyed his original world, so long ago. Unfortunately for both of them, dearest Eru, beat her to it.

"Nothing to say for yourself?" Lilith demanded, her voice still lively, despite the anger in it. She was keeping her rage in check, not screaming or frothing at the mouth. Yet the shaking of her hands, indicated that she was barely keeping herself from destroying everything around her.

"I have no excuse. You know my reasons. He manipulated me. Made me believe things that weren't true. I fought for people who never truly loved me. I fought the one person that did, for a world that would never accept who I was. You were right about them. About all of it. I should have listened. I should have trusted you. There is no forgiving what I've done, so I wont even try. I am yours, now and forever." Jon replied, keeping his tone steady and quiet, and keeping his head bowed to her.

Lilith stared down at him, fire burning in her eyes, and shadow dancing at her feet. She tilted her head ever so slightly, her gaze filled with rage.

"I did try and tell you, baby brother." She noted, angrily.

"I know. And I should have listened. I wanted so badly to be accepted by them, to be wanted, that I turned my back on the one person that needed me the most." Jon responded to her.

"Don't pretend like I'm some child anymore. The days where I needed you, have long since passed. Tell me why I shouldn't kill you?" Lilith responded, with a snarl.

"You always needed me. Ever since we were children. You never stopped needing me, and I never stopped needing you. That's why you shouldn't kill me. Because we need each other, we always have. We're strongest when we're together. We're actually happy, when we're together. I know you don't trust me, for what I did to you all those years ago, I'd never ask you to forget that life, only to remember that I have done nothing but serve you, since the day I made my way back to your side. I am yours, now and forever." Jon swore to her, knowing full well this may enrage her further.

"Now and forever? What a lofty promise. Though I will admit, it has been nice having you with me all these long years. But who is it you want to be with? Melkor, or me?" Lilith inquired, her gaze piercing into him.

Jon was quiet for a moment. He didn't say anything as he slowly raised his gaze to meet with hers.

"I gave you the name Lilith. Surely that should be enough of an answer." Jon replied to her question.

Lilith stared at him for several long moments, her blazing gaze growing more intense, though finally she let up, the fire in her eyes reducing to smoldering coals.

"I guess it is. Tell me, baby brother, what will you do now?" Lilith inquired.

"Serve you. As I have since we were reunited. Fight for our revenge against the man who turned us against each other. Dominate this world, and every world to come, all for you." Jon replied, his own gaze igniting into burning emerald flame.

A small smirk touched at Lilith's lips, as she reached out, caressing his face, almost lovingly.

"Than rise, and serve me." Lilith commanded, earning a smile and a resolute nod, Jon rose to his feet.

"An interesting new body, baby brother. It's strong, resilient. I do hope it was worth the effort." Lilith mused, examining.

"Jon Snow, was what Ned Stark named me. His bastard son. Lyanna Stark named me Aegon Targaryen. A name that'll suite us well in our march south. I am the rightful king of Westoros, and that will earn the allegiance of many southern houses. I've cultivated a friendship with Robb Stark, the current ruler of Winterfell, Ned Stark's Eldest son. I've seduced his eldest daughter Sansa, and turned the both of them into werewolves. My ties to the Stark children are strong, and will guarantee an alliance with the North, when we cross over, we just have to time things correctly. Otherwise, my garrison at Moat Cailin is ready and willing to serve, four hundred men, loyal and practiced." Jon informed her.

Lilith turned from him, running his accomplishments over the last sixteen years, through her mind. Turning the future lords of the North into his pawns would indeed be useful, and would allow them to take nearly half the land on the continent before having to face any sort of mobilized force. Yes this would work splendidly.

"What's been going on here since my departure?" Jon inquired, walking by her side.

"Our forces have amassed splendidly. Here in the Land of Always Winter, our largest force has gathered, numbering a few hundred thousands at last count. Orcs, Uruks, Spiders, Caragors, Wargs, Olegs, Graugs, Mammoths, Men, Wights, and other beastly abominations. I've had your Nazgûl, use their Morgul blades to begin turning the strongest of our human servants into Cargûl. They number at nearly sixty now." Lilith explained to him as they made their way through one of the side entrances of the hall and into a meeting chamber of sorts. A large round chamber, meant for the seating of nearly a hundred various warchiefs and commanders.

"What of Mordor, Dol Guldur, and Arcem Ossa?" Jon inquired as he kept pace with her.

"Arcem Ossa is nearing a hundred thousand strong, as well as some of my newest creations. Giant armored boars to be ridden into battle, giant scorpions to serve as siege and shock troops, Cargûl have been created there as well, nearing twenty. Mordor's numbers have amassed greatly, nearing two hundred thousand in total, though I've ordered most of them to gather far to the east of Mordor, away from the eyes of the Men of Gondor. I sent one of the Nazgûl to Dol Guldur, there he has made an alliance with a powerful Warchief of the Moria orcs, Azog the Defiler, and has gained an alliance with the orcs from Mount Gundabad. All my interactions on the other side have been done through an agent that came to me while you were away. A Black Númenórean. He arrived in Mordor from the east, looking for you, I believe. I have trained him in the ways of black sorcery, and he now operates as the Mouth of Sauron, at his side are the Black Captains, the Black Hand, the Hammer, and the Tower. All three command our forces in Mordor, preparing our armies to launch an attack on the fortresses of men across the land. Upon our orders, they are ready to reclaim Mordor." Lilith explained to him, earning a cruel smirk from Jon in process.

On his own, he would have never managed to amass such a force, they were definitely closing in, if not already over a half a million soldiers in total, combining all of their armies from Middle Earth, and here. Their forces would shake the earth upon a day, when they marched upon the free people of the world.

He was definitely looking forward to seeing the great abominations Lilith had conjured during his absence in the south, in preparation for their war. With her memories of her first life returned to her, she had no doubt taken the time to enhanced her soldiers, her body, and even her fortress with some of her old tricks, and possibly even some new ones she had come up with.

"The Wildlings are being slaughtered by our raiding parties. More and more my army pushes them towards the Wall. Since you've been gone, most of them have united under a King, Mance Rayder. Now they push south, desperately trying to cross the Wall in the hopes of finding safety there. We will break them upon that mighty wall, and force them to either submit, or die." Lilith informed him, earning a resolute nod from Jon.

"What would you have me do?" Jon asked of her.

"I am preparing a massive force for an assault on the Wall. I would have you lead it. Take our forces south, crush the Wildlings and the Night's Watch. Take the Wall, and the castles along it and prepare for our invasion of the south." Lilith commanded, earning a resolute nod from Jon.

"I have a gift for you, Baby brother, before you depart." Lilith said, turning and heading off. He followed, quickly summoning his secret box, containing artifacts from their shared past.

She stopped when she noticed him stop, set it on the ground, and return it to it's actual size.

"I have several gifts for you as well, dear sister. Things I've kept for a very long time." Jon expressed as he retrieved her wand and offered it to her, earning visible surprise from her as she took it in her hands, and ran her eyes along it. She hadn't used this wand in ages, not since she had abandoned her birth name and became Lilith. This wand was left behind then, a relic of her past.

Dark wood, with a dragon heartstring. Eleven and a half inches. She recalled clear as day. A smile touched at her lips, and her eyes slowly drifted back to him to find Jon rising to his feet, in both his hands, he held relics from her first life.

In one, her blackened steel sword, Ira. A hand-and-a-half sword, of light consuming black steel, with smoldering red runes etched along the hilt, handle, and spine of the blade. The handle itself, wrapped in dark leather, its cross-guard was a smoky silver, along with the pommel, and set in the pommel was a red ruby.

In his opposite hand, he held her staff. The tool of destruction she had wielded during her time as Lilith. Nearly as tall as she was, made of charcoal black wood. Along it's surface were countless runes, each dancing with color, dark blues, and blood reds, to burning oranges, and even white. All dim, and faded, yet ceaseless in their glow. At it's end, a focus, held in place by the wood, like a grasping hand. A white-gold gem that refracted light, into a blackened pit in the center. The jewel itself was round, with forty flat sides encircling it. Encased within the white jewel was a pure black orb that sat at it's center, perfectly spherical and devoid of any color.

Both of these weapons had been her tools of war. Weapons she had wielded so long ago. Her old friend, the Headmaster, would not have forgotten the sword she had once used to cut down his precious Order of the Phoenix, nor would he have forgotten the staff that had taken off his hand, during their last duel.

Pocketing her wand, she took both weapons, feeling their power rush into her, and through her body. Her magic screamed for vengeance as she felt the stains of countless deaths, forever marring both of these instruments of terror.

"You did well keeping these. I had looked for them, when I had ventured home, but I could not find them." Lilith noted, eyeing both artifacts with reverence.

Jon offered her a nod, but than looked confused.

"You went home? Back to our birth place, you mean?" Jon questioned.

"Yes. Come and see what I found, baby brother." Lilith offered him a devilish smirk, as she shrunk her sword, pocketing it, and walked with her staff.

Jon followed her, curious to see what she had retrieved from their dead home world, while also wondering if perhaps her actually going there was what triggered her memories coming back. Maybe it was that, that was the true cause of her return, and not his diary? Maybe that was just the catalyst that had triggered her desire to return?

As if sensing his thoughts, she began to speak as she led him through the citadel, past legions of orcs, uruks, undead, spirits, and all other manner of monsters.

"Your diary and the memories it contained triggered some of my own. I felt things begin to come back to me. Hints of a life I couldn't fully remember. Finally I decided I would go to our place of birth, to see if that could trigger anything. Low and behold, it did. I remembered everything. My past, our war, our love. All of it. Even my birth name, and the true name of our foe, our dearest headmaster." Lilith explained as they made their way deeper and deeper into the underbelly of the fortress.

"While you were there you searched for some of your old tools." Jon noted, recalling how she had said she'd looked for her weapons while there.

"Aye. I did. I also recovered some of my old servants, restoring them to life." She hummed in a musical tone, causing Jon to stop dead in his tracks, his eyes going wide. Lilith didn't stop her advance, despite sensing his sudden hesitation. Her smirk grew deadly as she felt him begin to walk again. "Oh yes baby brother. Your old friend is here too. And I've made sure to improve upon him, with his resurrection."

Jon blanched as he slowly followed after her. Fear building in his gut. He was certain he knew what she was referring to, and it was not something enjoyable.

After a while, the two found themselves entering a massive underground chamber. This chamber was filled with lava, and massive tunnels extended out of it from all sides. Slumbering within the chamber, Jon counted five massive beasts. Giant dragons, each as large as Balerion the Black Dread. These beasts were shaped like Valyrian dragons, though they sported large forelimbs with human like arms and hands acting as their front legs. These dragons were still young, only a few centuries old, yet already they had grown massive and powerful at the hands of their dark master. They were not as large as some of her earlier creations, which was an interesting difference. No instead of the same growth rate, Lilith seemed to have adjusted that by making them stronger. Increasing the strength of their fire, their intelligence, their control over magic, their scales were far stronger, and they no longer possessed the weak spot of their ancestors. No, while these great dragons were smaller than their predecessors, they would no doubt become far worse than any that had come before, save for the mighty Ancalagon.

Lilith led him through the chamber of fire, the dragons barely stirring at their presence, and those that took note of them, kept low and away from their dark master.

At the back of the chamber, a great slumbering beast stood out. Far older than his brethren and born in an era, long since forgotten. Midir, the Darkeater. Lilith's mount from her first reign. The first of the Great Dragons, and the one whom Jon had used stories of, to inspire Morgoth to recreate beasts in it's image.

The dragon was nearly twice the size of the others, it's skin was black and covered with dark purple scales. It had the body-shape of a wolf, with a tail just over half the length of it's total size. It had two sets of wings, one larger, and one smaller. Both sets were tattered and heavily worn, indicating the creature was ancient and had seen countless battles. From it's flesh emerged darkened purple crystals that gleamed with starlight from within. From it's body, smoke drifted out, and within the smoke, twinkling crystal flakes, sparkling with radiance. From it's head, two large horns, similar to a steer, emerged. **(1*)**

All in all, the beast was absolutely massive. Easily the largest creature in her arsenal at the moment, and it truly was a monster to behold. Jon came to a pause when he saw it, internally cursing at the sight of the great beast. This very same dragon, he had fought so long ago, and had, had a hand in killing would most definitely remember him.

And it did. The beast roused from slumber and rose, it's fiery orange eyes finding their way to it's dark master, and then to Jon. The moment it locked it's gaze onto him, a deep, draconic bellow erupted from it's mouth.

"Good to see that your memory is as fine as ever, my old friend." Lilith noted with a chuckle, turning a rueful gaze towards Jon.

"Of all the beasts you had to go and raise from the dead, it had to be this one." Jon groaned, as the dragon rose to it's feet, letting out a menacing growl as it did.

"Well, I figured if you were not as loyal as you claimed, than he would be the perfect tool for putting you in your place. Luckily for you, it seems such things will not be necessary." Lilith hummed with amusement.

"Luckily." Jon quietly muttered, causing Lilith's smirk to grow.

Midir released another growl, ready to attack Jon the moment Lilith gave the command.

"Settle yourself, my old friend. My dearest baby brother has learned from his mistakes." Lilith cooed as she reached up, running her hand along the dragon's lower jaw. Even with her arm fully outstretched, the beast had to lower it's head for her to reach it, which it did without hesitation, though it's eyes were firmly locked onto Jon, and he could clearly see the hatred within the dragon's gaze.

Despite his misgiving in regards to his long time foe, Jon knew that the dragon would be a useful ally. Midir had been the example for which all of the Great Dragon's were forged. It was from his stories of this mighty beasts, that creatures such as Glaurung and Ancalagon came into being.

"You and my dearest baby brother, will take command of a great host and lead it south. Your mission is to take the Wall, and capture all nineteen castles along it's southern edge. Between you and your goal, is an army of Wildlings, under the leadership of Mance Rayder, and a thousand members of the Night's Watch. Destroy both hosts, break their spirits and seize the Wall. Secure our hold on the Far North." Lilith issued her command to both Jon and Midir.

The Dragon let out a growl, while Jon bowed his head in submission to her command. He had made his bed long ago, now he would lay in it, without complaint. If Lilith commanded he work with ancient foes, he would do so with a smile.

The War for Westoros would begin now.

-**To Be Continued-**

_**(1*) Darkeater Midir from Dark souls 3**_

_**A****lright, there you go, hope everyone is enjoying themselves and hope everyone is having a good time.**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Alright, time for the next chapter of Darkness Reborn, hope everyone is ready to enjoy themselves, time for some fun with war and battle. Things are going to be interesting, moving forward. It wont be long before the secret is out and most of the world is thrown into conflict. If anyone has any questions, feel free to let me know. And just so everyone is aware, not every event will occur in order, or at all, and some events may be pushed up, as seen in this chapter, know that this is on purpose, and I wont be holding to the storylines of either book or show from this point onward.**_

_**Also, someone asked me if Harry/Jon/Sauron/Aegon, will remain entirely submissive to Lilith, and the answer is no. why he chose to remain submissive to her for so long will be explained, but he wont stay that way moving forward. He wants to be by her side, to stand as her equal, as the two are twins. She'll be a bit frosty towards him for a while as she gets herself in order, get's her head on right. Her last memories as lilith were of him killing her, and before that, centuries of them fighting. But she hasn't forgotten that as Sauron, he served her faithfully and loyally, and even gave her, her old name back. So she'll warm up to him again, it'll just take a little bit, so please be patient.**_

_**Lilith as a character is someone who puts up strong walls to protect herself. She's been hurt a lot especially by Harry, so after all this time, she's cautious around him, despite knowing deep down that he's changed. So it will take time, as to why he's afraid of her, well he's afraid for the same reason Morgoth was afraid of Tulkas, despite the fact that Morgoth couldn't die. Getting the living hell beaten out of you, especially as an immortal is probably the only real thing you fear, outside of being imprisoned. So Harry being afraid of Lilith does make sense, as she is far stronger than he is, and he can actually die, he just wont stay dead, if he doesn't choose to. He can reform from death, easily, but that doesn't mean it's a pleasant experience to die, or that he wants to, especially after going through all of the work to make himself a new body. Him being afraid of her, has more to do with pain, than with fear of death.**_

_**If you've got any questions, or concerns leave me a review or send me a pm, I'll be sure to get back to you, and just as a heads up for you guys, fanfiction stopped sending emails letting me know when I get a pm, so if I pm you back, you may not know unless you actually check your account. So there's that, anyway, let's begin.**_

**Darkness Reborn**

**Chapter 7: Descent from the North**

"How long?" Jon inquired, his gaze set out over the vastness of the Land of Always Winter.

"They will be ready to march in two days time, my lord." An orc warchief responded, timidly.

"Good. Mance Rayder has one hundred thousand wildlings at his back. Nearly half of them are fighters, they will be made to kneel, or we will slaughter them to the last child." Jon stated, his eyes glowing as he turned his gaze towards the warchief. He earned a quick nod from the orc as it backed away and out of the chamber.

Jon stared after it for a moment before turning his gaze back out across the wintry landscape.

He stood within the central tower of Tantibus Arcis, inside of a special chamber that he had converted into his personal quarters. Below him, thousands of orcs, wights, and corrupted men, busied themselves tirelessly with preparations. Very soon, Jon would lead a large portion of the army here, south to conquer the rest of the far north, and take the Wall. His mission was to capture the massive Icy barrier and all nineteen castles along it's southern face. Those castles would then be reinforced, and new castles would be constructed on the northern side.

To the North of the Land of Always Winter, was a massive mountain range that extended for nearly five hundred miles before it gave way to more tundras. The area was completely uninhabited as far as Lilith had seen during her exploration to the north of their main base. With the mountains guarding from northern attack, if they took the Wall and broke the wildlings, than they would have the perfect defensive position from which to strike out at their enemies. Mountains to the north, treacherous oceans to the east and west, and the Wall to the south. Absolutely perfect.

The wildlings wouldn't be a major issue. They had giants, and they had numbers, those were their only benefits. They were highly untrained, highly unorganized, and they weren't true soldiers. They would face slaughter at his hands if they refused to submit.

A smirk touched upon Jon's lips as he turned and stepped over to his seat of power, that faced a wall of windows in his chamber, overlooking the fortress and the southern expanse.

He sat upon his throne and reflected on the events of recent weeks.

Since his return to her side, he'd been proceeding with caution around his sister. Lilith had all of her memories back, and thus remembered what he'd done to her so long ago. She was willing to grant him the benefit that he had remained her loyal servant for thousands of years since than, and seemingly wanted to give him a second chance, but with the return of her human memories, came with it the return of many of her human feelings. Including her heartbreak at his betrayal, and the pain of having to fight against someone she loved for centuries.

In a way, Jon was happy to endure her anger. For so long he got to enjoy having her back, without having to deal with the consequences of his own wrongdoings, but with that, came the caveat that he'd never truly earn her forgiveness for the things he'd done.

In was definitely unpleasant to have to endure her hate once more, but he knew she was weary of it. Which made it all the easier to deal with. He could see it in her eyes. She didn't want to be angry with him. They had both been young and foolish so long ago, and they had both allowed the Headmaster to turn them away from one another. Harry was lifted up as the golden child, the defeater of the dark lord Voldemort, the hero, the Boy-who-Lived. Lilith was the outsider, the sister, the dark and spooky freak, the one who didn't trust anyone other than Harry, and was easily jealous of anyone her brother spent time with.

In the end, it had been his sister who had managed to locate the Horcruxs that Voldemort had created, in order for Harry and the rest of the Golden Trio to destroy. She had also been the only one who stood by his side when he fought the dark lord for the last time. They had destroyed him together. That was how it should have been, going forward, the two of them facing the world together. Instead Harry had allowed the Light to crawl into his head and turn him against the Dark, not realizing at the time, that his own beloved twin, stood in those shadows as well.

She suffered, because of his actions, and each time he told her he was sorry, she forgave him. That should have been enough for him to understand that there had always been light in his darker half. But he was a fool then, and allowed himself to be manipulated. He worked against his own twin for the acceptance of those he thought truly cared for him.

He had wanted it all, his beloved twin, friends, family, a life of peace and happiness. In the end he lost it all because he couldn't see the twisted machinations of the 'Light' he served. And ultimately, it was that light that burned away the world and left it nothing more than a ruin.

There was no saying 'sorry' anymore. He didn't want to know what would happen if he tried to apologize to her. He could see the war that waged within his beloved twin. Even without her memories, Melkor knew to hate Eru. That was why she sought to destroy all that he built. That was one of the few things that had separated Melkor and Lilith. Lilith sought domination, control, and ultimately, freedom. Melkor sought to tear down everything that Eru had built.

During his time as her lieutenant, he had done what he could to mitigate Melkor's rage, bringing her more in line with Lilith's true desires, to conquer and bring order to the chaos of the world. When she had been tossed into the void, and he had risen as the new Dark Lord, he had stylized himself after Lilith, seeking to bring order to the world, and all things in it. To bring Eru's creations, under his control.

In his own way, he was continuing to fight for her dreams, even when she had forgotten them.

Now he wanted nothing more than to avenge their pain, and suffering. If he could, he would go back to those days as Harry Potter, and he would change things for the better. He wouldn't trust Dumbledore, he wouldn't turn on his sister, he wouldn't allow his need for attention and affection, to let him forget the one person who had always been there for him, and had always needed him the most.

Perhaps one day she would forgive him, or perhaps not. Regardless, that air of uncertainty was no longer present between them. Lilith had returned, and she would decide how she felt about him, one way or the other. Until she decided, he would just have to keep proving himself.

One day, he hoped that she would see how much he cared for her, and how he was willing to do anything to earn her forgiveness. Perhaps on that day, he would no longer be her lieutenant, or her servant, but they could again stand side by side, and rise up to unimaginable heights, together.

Until then…

He felt a presence tickle at the edges of his mind. He quickly apparated into the main hall, appearing on a knee, before his beloved sister.

"Your forces are almost prepared?" She inquired, staring down at him.

"In two days time, we will be ready to march. I will take them south, crush Mance Rayder, and seize the Wall for you." Jon proclaimed.

"Have you decided how you will address the appearance of your forces, or your service to me?" Lilith asked, leaning back on her throne, eyeing him curiously.

"When I leave this place, it will be as Aegon of House Targaryen. When asked about the orcs, I will tell them the truth. I have made an alliance with the Queen of Fire, Shadow, and Winter." He replied.

"Oh? And what were the terms of this alliance?" Lilith inquired, tempting him to say something he may regret.

Jon knew better than to fall for her trap. She wanted to hurt his feelings, she wanted him to say something about marriage, or the like, so that she could shoot him down, make him hurt, just as he had done to her once, so very long ago.

It was a petty revenge, but it was better than her actually trying to murder him. Death was of little concern, but she far surpassed him in terms of her raw power, even with the Deathly Hallows under his possession, it had still taken centuries to beat her the first time, and she was far stronger now, than she had been then. So while he wasn't worried about dying, if she grew furious enough with him, she may decide she wanted to take out her pain and suffering onto him, and that was a torturous existence that he wished on very few, save the old headmaster.

Jon knew petty revenge wouldn't make her happy, nor would torturing him. All throughout their war with each other, no matter how twisted she became, she never truly enjoyed hurting him. In fact, in always seemed to hurt her more, than it did him. Perhaps because she never stopped loving him, and it killed her inside to bring him pain. She could be spiteful, she could be hateful, she could be vindictive, but she wasn't without her regrets.

He didn't want that for her. He would take the bait, let her lash out, hurt him, and thus hurt herself. He'd apologize for her being upset, she'd get angry with him, and feel even worse because he was acting noble, despite knowing that she had hurt him. It was a tiring game, and Jon didn't want to play it. He wasn't that same person anymore. The Harry Potter, she had fought against so long ago, was dead. Before her now, was the man he was meant to be. Dark, sharp, willing to embrace his own malice, and cruelty, his anger, and sadism. He had always had a temper, and she had always encouraged him to use it, not hide from it.

He wouldn't mope around, or walk into her traps, just so she could get a few moments of pleasure from it, before she came to regret her words.

No. He'd show her that he was different.

"If any of them ask, I'll simply tell them I gave her a night unlike any she'd ever experienced before. Afterwards, she offered me anything I wanted. I wanted the world. She just so happened to want the same." Jon answered, his reply left her taken aback for a moment.

She stared at him, blinking several times, as a playful smirk crawled across her face.

"So… you're my whore, is that it?" She asked in response.

"Aegon the Whore, has a nice ring to it." Jon answered with a smirk, earning a snort of amusement from Lilith, in response.

"Aegon the Whore. I like it. If you die, I will have it engraved onto your tomb." Lilith responded with a chuckle.

"Were such a thing possible. Nevertheless, how would you like me to address that question?" Jon asked after a moment, internally quite proud of himself for making her laugh.

"Well, as a 'Queen of Fire, Shadows, and Winter', logic would dictate that I would have a king, or a consort, at the very least. You are mine, after all. If they require an answer, than tell them that. Our goals are aligned. We both desire this world, and in exchange for your name, I gave you an army to reclaim your throne. In fact, you can tell those dearest Starks of yours that as well. You agreed to marry me to save the North from the war I'll wage on them." Lilith answered, earning a bit of surprise from Jon, as that had been what he was hoping for, in terms of an explanation of how they came to join one another, but he hadn't expected her to agree to it, or even suggest it himself, which is why he suspected that she was baiting him.

It was a moment, before he knew he had made a mistake. The look on his face, gave away too much. She saw through him, saw his true intentions, his feelings. And with that opening, she struck. "It's a story that will work to our advantage. Even if it is a lie, everyone will always know the truth. One look and they'll see it. Master and loyal little servant."

Jon offered a nod at that, squashing any emotions in his eyes before she decided to continue. Rather to have her agitated at him not taking her bait, than to let her start saying more that would really start to hurt.

"Of course, my master." Jon stated firmly, bowing his head as he did.

Lilith stared down at him for a few scant moments, before noting that he wasn't going to say anything more until she did.

"Well, see to it your forces depart as soon as they are ready. My rise, is at hand. And the world shall tremble before the might of my army." Lilith commanded, earning a nod from Jon.

He bowed, rose and turned to depart. Lilith stared after him as he left. As soon as he passed out of the room, she let out a sigh.

"_What do you want, baby brother? What is it you're really after?" _Lilith thought to herself, her eyes closing as she allowed herself to drift into the land of dreams, a place she was becoming more and more familiar with, as the days went by.

Two days after, the army was ready. Over Four hundred thousand residents resided within Tantibus Arcis, Jon, under the name of Aegon, would lead a third of them south, to capture the wall and defeat the Wildlings and the Night's Watch.

He had at his command, eighty thousand orcs, ten thousand uruks, four thousand men, two thousand spiders, four thousand caragors and wargs, one thousand Olegs, eighty graugs, and forty mammoths.

The force would be led by Aegon, two of the Nine Nazgul, and the Great Dragon Midir. Aegon, along with the two Nazgul had as their mounts Fellbeasts. Aegon wasn't even going to attempt to ride Midir. The dragon had once been Lilith's mount, and it hated him, two very good reasons to not tempt fate in regards to the very powerful, and intelligent familiar, and besides that, he did not have the time to earn the beast's respect. That would have to come later.

Their conquest was rapid, as they swarmed south.

Crossing the Frostfang mountains they set upon the handful of Wildling tribes that had refused to join with Mance Rayder's army.

Many were offered the chance to join Aegon's army in exchange for their loyalty and oaths of service. Most spat on him, calling him a 'southron kneeler'. Aegon's response was swift and merciless. These peoples were offered no second chance. They were slaughtered, their children taken, and sent north to serve as slaves, and to add insult to injury, Aegon had the slain Wildlings raised as wights, and made them kneel to him, just to show those that did join him, what he could do if they disobeyed. The choice was simple. You would either serve in life, or you would serve in death. There was no escape.

These battles were few and far between as Aegon's army swarmed into the Haunted Forest. As they made their way south, Aegon began to rapidly construct forts and fortresses of wood and stone, anywhere, where valuable resources could be found, he would leave forces behind to construct bases. They would turn that greater North into a kingdom of fire and industry, that would fuel the war machine here, and when they returned to Arda.

As they moved south, some forces were left behind, while others joined up with the main host, these were usually scouting parties, or raiding groups that had been harassing and battling the Wildlings for years, and they had quite a bit of interesting information to tell.

Aegon was in no hurry as he marched south, Mance Rayder's force was filled with women and children, old and sick. They wouldn't move very quickly, and even if they tried, there would still be the Wall, they'd have to contend with. Instead Aegon focused on securing his territory, establishing supply lines back north, and making certain every second was spent furthering their goals.

As he moved south, he kept a close eye on the Wildling host, days passed, than weeks, soon several months had gone by as Aegon meticulously conquered or cut down every single tribe, clan, or gathering, he could find as he slowly pursued Mance Rayder's host.

Truly it must have been awful for them. Every single scout they sent back north to check to see if they were being followed got caught, interrogated, and then eaten. After the orcs were done munching on the scout's flesh, he would then be raised as a wight, and sent to harass the Wildling host.

Further and further south they moved, seizing every inch of land as they pushed the Wildlings further and further towards the Wall.

Aside from his conquests of the Far North, Aegon would spend his nights guiding the dreams of his packmates in the south. Every night, Sansa and Robb would reach out to him, as their minds filled with images of the hunt. It was quite suddenly, around the same time for both of them, that they began to dream of hunting lions. Something had happened, and both of them were angry at House Lannister.

Aegon would sometimes spend his time listening in on Sansa, through the mirror he had given her. Often, little of note would occur, just Sansa being Sansa, but over time, he began to notice that she was starting to pace. She was getting restless, especially at night, where she'd dream of hunting and killing, and it would often cause her to awaken, trembling, and fearful.

He caught news of an incident, Arya had attacked prince Joffrey, injuring him. Or something of the like. The end result had been the queen ordering the death of the direwolves. Interestingly enough, Nymeria and Lady had both vanished, before they could be killed.

Aegon suspected his agents within the King's caravan had rescued them, knowing the beasts would be useful servants.

That had been the first truly interesting thing he had heard during his eavesdropping, though it hadn't been the last. Recently, Sansa had been crying. In fact, her crying became more common than most other things in her life. Her crying coincided with her dreams of hunting and killing lions.

And soon she started to hunt Prince Joffrey in her dreams. Ripping him to shreds night after night.

Something had indeed happened, the Lannisters had moved against the Starks, and had earned the wrath of both wolves.

He would have to see about sending a messenger down south to see what was going on. If the Lannisters had started a feud with the Starks, that meant that getting them to agree to a war to dethrone the Stag King, would be that much easier.

During their march south, a man of the Night's Watch was brought to him, captured by one of their scouting parties.

Aegon was perched atop a hill, overlooking the vast forest, when a troop of orcs dragged the man before him and tossed him at his feet, nearby Ghost rose up and padded over to the fallen man, sniffing at him, curiously.

Aegon glanced down at the lone ranger, recognizing him instantly.

"Benjen Stark, I wondered if I would run into you." Aegon noted, his voice drawing the man's full attention as he pulled himself to his knees and lifted his gaze to stare at Aegon.

"Jon?" Benjen muttered, disbelief and confusion, marring his voice. He had been captured to the south, and had endured hardship at the hands of his orc captors. He was bruised, beaten, and half starved. Weak, would be putting it mildly.

"Hello uncle." Aegon replied, approaching the man.

"What are you doing here? You disappeared from the Wall… I've been looking for you." Benjen said to him, his eyes drifting across Aegon's body. The cold dark wintry cloak that he wore, emblazoned with his own sigil, a combination of the Targaryen sigil, the sigil of house Stark, and his own sigil as Sauron.

It's form was of the three headed dragon facing one way, and the howling wolf's head facing the other, and above both, the crimson eye, that had been his sigil throughout the Third Age. This sigil was set on a black field, which happened to be the preferred field of House Targaryen, as well as representing the pure blackness, that Morgoth had once used as a sigil.

This same sigil was held aloft on the banners of his army, and the crimson eye was often emblazoned on their helms or armor.

Beyond his dark cloak, Aegon wore blackened armor, encrusted with red rubies. An imitation of Rhaegar Targaryen's armor.

"I came North to see the world uncle. The wall isn't the end of that world." Aegon replied, motioning for the orcs to lift Benjen to his feet.

They did so, rather more gently, than he was used to from them. His eyes glanced back and forth between the orcs on either side of him, then to Ghost and then back to Aegon.

"You're commanding these… creatures?" Benjen noted.

"Aye… I am. On my journey into the North I met with a company of them. They took me further North than anyone has ever been. In the cold Land of Always Winter, I met their Queen. A dark and imposing woman, she's got her eyes set on all of Westoros." Aegon explained to him, approaching Benjen. As he did, Benjen noticed that the frigid cold seemed to recede, almost as if it were pushed back by Aegon's presence. The air warmed, almost feeling comfortable.

"You're leading them to attack Westoros?" Benjen said back to him, dumbfounded, and in disbelief.

"I've seen her army, uncle. Three hundred thousand, at least." Aegon whispered, causing Benjen to go rigid. "She'll slaughter the Wildlings and lay siege to the wall, then she'll burn the North and everyone in it. The Wall can't stop her, the Wildlings can't stop her, and the North can't stop her. Her army is filled with beasts, dragons, and other monsters I can't even name. The Wall is going to fall. All of Westoros is going to fall."

Benjen stared at him, fear, disbelief, betrayal, and confusion, dancing in his eyes.

"So you joined with her, this woman in the Far North. You'd lead her army to attack us?" Benjen muttered, his eyes accusing and piercing in a way that only Stark's could be.

"Dragon's uncle. Did you not hear me? I've seen the paltry force on the Wall. Three dragon's burned the seven kingdoms and brought them to heel, our ancestor, the King who Knelt, knew better than to fight them. She has six, and they are massive. The men on the Wall wont survive, the North wont survive. Not unless I can convince them to kneel." Aegon replied, allowing passion, frustration, desperation, and even hope to fill his person, giving off the aura of a man who had seen things, terrible things, and knew that the world was soon to face a grievous threat.

Benjen stared at him for a moment, understanding dawning in his gaze. His eyes danced from Aegon's face, to the armor he wore. In his mind's eye, he could see the banner this army had raised. The coat of arms of houses Targaryen and Stark. Unified as one.

Benjen had long suspected a secret truth. One held by his older brother for a long time. Seeing this, confirmed it in his mind. Jon was not Ned's bastard. He was Lyanna's son.

"You know the truth now, don't you?" Benjen noted, seeking to confirm his suspicions.

"Aye. I know the truth. Lyanna Stark was my mother. Prince Rhaegar was my father. I know they were married in the light of the Seven, and my mother named me Aegon of house Targaryen." Aegon replied, locking eyes with Benjen, who let out a sigh and offered a nod.

"You knew?" Aegon questioned.

"I know my brother, and I knew my sister. I always suspected, but I never knew for certain. Then when I heard you were singing, I was more certain than ever. Ned can't sing, neither could Lyanna. Rhaegar could though, I'd heard him sing when I was a boy." Benjen admitted.

"Than you know that the Iron Throne is mine by right. It's because of that, that the Queen in the far north is willing to work with me. I have a name she needs. A name that can ensure that southern houses will lay down their arms and kneel for her. She's agreed to take me as her husband, and has sent me south to defeat the Wildlings and force them to either submit, or die. Once that's done, I'll march on the Wall, and take it in her name. It's my hope that I can convince the men there to kneel in exchange for their lives. That I can convince Robb and the rest of the North to side with me. Join me. I don't want her armies to burn the North. I don't want our people to die. So long as I lead the Vanguard, I have the chance of stopping a massacre." Aegon explained to him, allowing frustration, hesitation, and even uncertainty to color his features, giving off the impression that he was desperate, fearful even.

His deceptive nature playing through perfectly, making it seem like he'd seen horrors beyond imagining in the Far North, and that is they didn't kneel to this Queen, than everyone was going to die.

He was making the same choice that the King Who Knelt, had made so long ago. Submission for survival.

Benjen could see these things, and nodded slowly, he had been dragged through the main encampment, and had already seen things beyond imagining. Giants, misshapen men, undead, and all other manner of monstrosity. Aegon called this the vanguard, meaning it was only a portion of the true army. There had to be over fifty thousand soldiers here, but it could possibly be far more, for all Benjen knew.

If this Queen in the Far North was truly set on conquering the south, then Aegon was right, the Night's Watch was doomed, and the North would not survive such a massive assault. Not when dragons were amongst them.

"See my uncle taken to my tent, have him fed, watered, and offered warm clothing. We'll speak more soon, uncle." Aegon commanded, earning obedient nods from his servants. A bit too obedient for Aegon's liking. Orcs were crass, and those that possessed subtlety were the minority. Had Benjen been more observant to such things, he would have noticed how uneasy and fearful the orcs were in Aegon's presence. Such a thing would have to be corrected further south.

Benjen fell for his ruse, but the more experienced players would notice that despite his so called desperate gamble to try and save people, his army was quite terrified of him.

Not long afterwards, Aegon arrived at his tent, Benjen was under guard, but otherwise left to his own devices within Aegon's tent. Nothing much resided within the tent itself. Most of Aegon's creature comforts remained stored in a small pouch he kept shrunken on his person.

Despite his body being human, he had long used his magic to increase the power of the blood that flowed in both the Targaryen and Stark lines. Now combined in Aegon, he used that dormant power to enhance the body's natural resilience to his magic, and made it more like an actual focus to his spirit and power, like a wand, or the One Ring. This meant that all of his powers, were accessible in this body, meaning it was easy to keep himself warm with little more than a thought. His body could feel cold, and be affected by it, if he wanted to be, but his control over this body, and the magic it held was so keen that he could alter it, and affect it as easily as breathing.

Benjen had accepted the food and drink provided, and had spent the majority of the remainder of his time, thinking on what Aegon had told him, about what was coming, the threat in the far north, and how it was set to descend on Westoros and kill them all, unless Aegon could retake his throne and bring them all in line.

"Uncle." Aegon greeted him upon entering.

"Jon. Or should I call you Aegon now?" Benjen responded.

"Jon is fine when we're in private." Aegon responded taking a seat in one of the few chairs that lay within the rather large tent.

"So… what is to become of me?" Benjen asked after a moment of silence.

"I don't want to hurt you. But I know that the chances of getting you to forgo your oaths and join me, are slim to none. So for now you're my prisoner. I'll take my forces to the Wall, have the dragon and the flying beast riders go for castle Black, force the Lord Commander to surrender. My Queen wants the Wall intact, or as intact as it can be, but if I need to melt a passageway through it to get South, I'll do it. I have no intention of playing games. As soon as I hit the wall, they'll send word south, and the south will begin preparing. Hope gives them a reason to fight, and it'll get many of them killed. The faster I move, the more lives I can save." Aegon responded, with a sigh.

Benjen let out a sigh, matching Aegon's and moved to sit next to him. The two were silent for several long moments, as Benjen eyed Aegon.

"So… what's she like?" Benjen asked after a moment.

"Who?" Aegon responded, confused.

"Your wife-to-be. Must be a helluva woman to raise such an army and set her sights on all of Westoros." Benjen responded, a small smirk touching at his lips, earning a smirk from Aegon in response.

"Her name is Lilith. But her servants call her Morgoth. She's a sorceress. She came here a long time ago. Something about her kind being extraordinarily long lived. She looks human though, raven black hair, emerald eyes, moon-pale skin. Beautiful, lovely, hard on the outside, but she has a gentle heart, deep down. She's cold to outsiders, distant to people she doesn't know. But… there's a spark in her, a fire that's unlike anything you can imagine. Her ambition is unmatched, and her desire to create a new world, a better world, is something I can empathize with." Aegon explained, his gaze stretching out, staring into the middle-distance, a small smile touching at his lips.

"She sounds incredible." Benjen noted, mulling over his words. Aegon sounded lovestruck, but some of the things he said were quite concerning. This Lilith wasn't human. She was some sort of sorceress. She had been around for a long time. He didn't know what to make of those things.

While Benjen pondered Aegon's words, internally, Aegon was smirking. He would sink his claws into Benjen, warping and twisting his mind, and he would add another werewolf to his pack, it was only a matter of time. With the face of Jon Snow, Aegon could easily slip past a person's defenses, the bastard raised by Ned Stark, an honorable man, people would believe him, because he couldn't possibly be a liar, couldn't possibly be deceitful, not with Ned Stark as the one who raised him.

And because of that, no one would ever suspect that he was really playing to their weaknesses, using their sympathy, or their ties to family, to find a way into their minds, and into their hearts. The staunchest and most self-righteous had often fallen to the Dark Lord's charisma, and domineering powers. These low men, would fall far easier.

So for the rest of the night, he and Benjen talked, talked about Aegon's plans for the North, and how he intended to acquire it without any bloodshed at all, and how he would try to do the same with the Night's Watch, taking the Wall, and the Far North, he could then pardon them, and set them free into his lands.

Benjen was an honorable man, just like his brother, he wouldn't fall as easily as others, but he did hold family in high regard, especially his dead sister's only living son. Before they were finished that night, Aegon would turn him into a werewolf, and from that day forward, Benjen Stark would be a servant of the Dark Lord.

Further and further south they moved, until arriving at the Fist of the First Men. There, Aegon ordered the construction of a large fortress. From the command of this high hill, they would oversee all of the Greater North.

He left a sizable force under the command of a skilled warchief, to begin construction here, as the remainder of his forces closed in on the Wildlings.

Soon, they were within a day's march of them.

Here Aegon ordered a company of warg riders to go forth and harass the Wildling caravan.

Despite their barbaric nature, and their desperation, many of the strongest members of the Wildling host, stayed at the rear to guard against attacks, protecting those that were to weak to defend themselves.

Normally the Wildlings would have left the old and weak to survive on their own, so the only logical conclusion was that it was under the orders of Mance Rayder, that they were acting so defensively.

Regardless, it would make little difference. Even the experienced Wildling warriors had little to no experience fighting mounted units, and wargs were more dangerous than horses. True they lacked the same mass, thus heavy charges were less effective, but wargs were more agile, and they could bite, and claw, as well as slam their bodies into foes. Against unarmored, unorganized foot soldiers, it wouldn't be much of a battle.

The only real threat was the danger of being spotted by one of the Wildling Skinchangers, who could project their minds into the bodies of animals. There existed the danger of being spotted, but at this point, there was little left to do. They were not far from the Wall now, only a few short days march until they arrived so the Wildlings had little place else to go.

Aegon dispatched five hundred warg riders to run down the Wildlings while his army marched after them.

As they followed, he kept Benjen Stark close at hand, being more direct with his influence then he had with Sansa or Robb. Already Benjen was becoming more aggressive, and was quicker to snap. One night he had even tore an orc guard to pieces with his bare hands, in a fit of rage, after having awoken from his slumber. Such proximity to the Lord of Werewolves, sped up the progression of the disease, and it was obvious that Benjen knew something was happening to him.

A day later, they came across the pack that Aegon had dispatched, surprisingly, there were far fewer of them than he had thought. He'd anticipated losing maybe a few dozen against the Wildlings, instead he'd lost well over a hundred.

This definitely required some answers.

"Speak you curs!" An orc chieftain spat as he lashed at the leader of the warg company and his lieutenant.

Both orcs snarled in response but kept themselves in check, not lashing out and risking a conflict with the far more skilled chieftain.

"I told you, we faced horse riders in battle. Dozens of them. They rode against us when we attacked the rear of the Wildling force." The captain of the warg company growled in response.

"The bleeding wildlings have no horsemen! So where'd they come from?" The chieftain demanded.

"I don't know! I'm not in charge of information. I just go where they tell me to and kill everything I see!" The Captain roared back, not backing down, or allowing himself to appear weak in front of his chieftain or his subordinate.

"These riders… did they have a banner of some sort? A mark? Were they protecting the Wildlings, or were they running from them?" Aegon asked. He had stood quietly this whole time, held back in the shadows, only his glowing green eyes visible. The orcs all turned to him at once, as if noticing his presence for the first time.

The three shared a look, but it was obvious the two lower ranking orcs didn't recognize their dark master. The chieftain did though and dropped to a knee.

The other two quickly followed in his actions, despite not knowing who he was. Best to bow, and avoid a lashing, as they say.

"When we were approaching the Wildlings, they were passing through some kind of small encampment built on a hill in the forest. When we attacked, their camps broke into chaos, and out of the chaos those bastards rode out. No real skill, but vicious. Wildlings on horseback." The warg captain explained.

"The Wildlings don't have any horses. If they did, they would have eaten them by now. Anything else of interest?" Aegon demanded, the flames in his eyes growing more vibrant causing the orcs to shrink in fear.

"Their were a bunch of dead black cloaks in the encampment. When we attacked, the Wildlings scattered like roaches. Inside the camp we found plenty of women and children, and a few still living black cloaks, that the wildlings looked like they were gonna torture. Maybe fifty or so. The rest were dead." The Orc captain explained.

"Brothers of the Night's Watch. How many do you think?" Aegon inquired, stepping out of the shadows.

"A lot. Over a hundred at least." The orc responded, reaching to his side and pulling up a long bastard sword to show to Aegon. "Took this off the corpse of one of the Wildlings. Finer steel than anything either groups should possess."

Aegon approached the orc, taking the sword in his hands. His eyes fell to the pommel, a white bear's head. He drew the blade, sensing magic within it. A smile touched as his lips, as he gazed at the rippling steel, that was characteristic of Valyrian Steel.

"The sigil of house Mormont. Their Valyrian Steel sword, Longclaw. Jeor Mormont was amongst those in the encampment. I want him found. Large, burly man. Like a bear. Old, short white hair. Find him, or his body, and bring him here." Aegon ordered, earning a nod from all three simultaneously, as they turned and exited, the warchief berating the two as they went about who Aegon was, and how lucky they were to be alive.

"Fetch my uncle." Aegon commanded to some of the orc guards in the room.

A few minutes later, and Benjen Stark was escorted into the room, his appearance reminding Aegon more and more of Remus Lupin with each passing day.

"Jon?" Benjen inquired.

Aegon was silent, as he rose to his feet and tossed the sword to Benjen.

Benjen caught the blade, and examined it, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"The Wildlings had taken refuge around Crastor's Keep. They ran into men of the Night's Watch there. They killed most of them. That sword was found on the body of a slain wildling. I know that sword belongs to the Lord-Commander." Aegon informed him, earning a slow nod from Benjen.

"Were there any survivors?" Benjen inquired softly, sorrow in his tone.

"A few. I'd like you to come with me to meet them. You'll know who they are, better than I would." Aegon offered, earning a nod from his uncle. The two exited, heading towards Crastor's Keep to see who amongst the Night's Watch had survived, and just what they were doing here in the North.

While Aegon appeared somber, and dismayed at the unneeded loss of life, on the inside, he merely ticked down the number of defenders now on the Wall. An easy task, had now become much easier.

**-To Be Continued-**

_**Alright, there you go, hope you enjoy, let me know if you have questions, until later. **_


	8. Chapter 8

**Darkness Reborn**

**Chapter 7: Nightmare of Frost**

Bruised, battered, and bloodied, the men of the Night's Watch, were a pitiful sight.

A few dozen of them, sat huddled together outside of the wooden shack that was once Crastor's Keep. The namesake of said keep was dead now, his body, nothing more than a charred hunk of slag, left on the outskirts of the keep.

These men were far from home and had suffered grievously at the hands of the Wildlings. Many of them were badly injured, and would not survive long, if they didn't receive help.

Surrounding the group of forty-five men of the Night's Watch, was a contingent of orcs. Their cold, uncaring eyes, bore down onto the damaged men, keeping them from fleeing or trying to fight back.

The men themselves, cowered before the bestial orcs, terrified of what would happen to them, now that they had been taken captive by an even more monstrous force, than the Wildlings.

Aegon and Benjen quickly made their way to the group, where Benjen proceeded to pass his gaze over all of the survivors, searching for people he recognized.

Several men took notice of him, recognizing Benjen.

"It's the First Ranger." One of the men noted, drawing the attention of the rest towards Benjen Stark.

"Do you recognize any of them?" Aegon inquired.

"Aye. I know a few of these men." Benjen responded as he stepped closer to the group, some of the rangers, rose to their feet as he approached.

"What are you men doing here? Why are you North of the Wall in such force? What happened?" Benjen asked, searching through them, looking for any veterans but finding few, if any. Most of the survivors either weren't in much of a condition to speak with him, or they were rookies, fresh meat for the Watch, who'd barely held a sword in their lives.

"The Lord-Commander ordered us North of the Wall. We were looking for answers. For the Wildlings, and these strange creatures we'd been seeing. We were also looking for you." One of the stewards responded.

"What happened?" Benjen inquired.

"We'd come North past the Wall, and made camp here at Craster's Keep. We were gonna keep headin' north when the Wildlings came out of nowhere. They butchered most of the others, and a Thenn cut down the Lord Commander. They were holding us here, plannin' on torturing us for information about the Wall." The same Steward answered, earning nods from his fellows that were listening.

Benjen let out a sigh, and cursed internally. Slowly he turned his gaze towards Aegon, looking to see what his nephew would do now.

"Some of you may recognize me from Castle Black. My name is Aegon Targaryen. I was raised as Jon Snow by Ned Stark. He raised me as his bastard, but in truth, my real father was Rhaegar Targaryen, and my mother was Lyanna Stark. I've made an alliance with the master of these creatures, the Queen in the Far North. She has offered to ally with me, and together we will take the Iron Throne, that is mine by birthright. With my army, I will crush the Wildlings. They will either kneel, or they will die. For you men, I offer you this, bend the knee to me, and I will absolve you of your oaths, and pardon you for whatever crimes you may have committed. You'll be given food, and a place in my service, to the benefit of your skills. I will march south, take the Wall, and all of the Seven Kingdoms. I have dragons, trolls, and an army of over one hundred thousand at my back. Make your choice, as some of you are injured, I will accept a verbal oath." As Aegon finished talking, Midir soared overhead, along with two of the Nine, on the backs of their Fellbeasts. The roaring of all three beasts, caused many of the Night's Watch members, to accept his words as truth.

"I offer you the chance to rise above yourselves, and become great. Join me, and together we will avenge the death's of your brothers, and crush Mance Rayder, and his army. What say you?" Aegon pressed, stepping forward.

Many shared looks were had, before some of the men shifted to their knees, and bowed their heads. Soon more followed, and it wasn't long before every man, able to move, was on his knees.

Whatever their reason, be it freedom, survival, or even revenge, these men knew that if they did not bow, than their chances of survival would diminish quickly. Either serve the Targaryen with dragons, or stand against him. No man wanted that.

Aegon gazed at the crowd before turning his gaze to Benjen.

Benjen met his gaze, and than slowly dropped to his knee, surprising Aegon.

"Uncle? I told you it was alright if you held to your oaths until I took the Wall." Aegon said to him, not at all unhappy that Benjen had chosen to kneel.

"I'm no fool. Your army is going to win. You'll beat the Wildlings, you'll capture the Wall, and you'll do whatever you please with the Night's Watch. What point is there in waiting until later?" Benjen admitted, earning a nod of understanding, and agreement from his nephew.

"Alright then. See to it, these men get treatment for their wounds." Aegon ordered several nearby orcs, earning nods. He then turned his attention towards where all of the captured Wildlings, were being held.

Most of the main Wildling host had moved past Craster's Keep by the time of the attack. Those that had remained behind, intended to interrogate the Night's Watch survivors, and send word to Mance Rayder on what they'd learned as he prepared his attack on the Wall. Aside from the warriors, most of the rest were women, children, and those to old to keep up, who had taken to resting in the capt.

When his Warg Riders had attacked the keep, many of the Wildling warriors had hopped onto the backs of the Night's Watch horses and rode against them. It was because of the nearly two hundred Wildlings on horseback, that Aegon had lost nearly a hundred Warg Riders, rather than only a few dozen. Still, even with some Wildlings on horseback, the riders had managed to cut down nearly a thousand Wildlings in their attack, and captured about a hundred of them as well.

Now all of these men and women were corralled together, similarly to the Night's Watch survivors, surrounded by orcs, and looking to be equally injured.

Aegon approached their group as Benjen rose to his feet, and moved to help some his former brothers.

Aegon made his way to the edge of the ring of orcs surrounding the Wildling captives and addressed them. "My name is Aegon Targaryen. My army marches for the Wall, and I will kill every single person that gets in my way. You have this one chance to bend the knee to me. Swear your service and kneel. Do so, and I will allow you to live. Refuse… and you'll die here."

The Wildlings all turned their attention to him as he spoke, many of them glaring hatefully at the commander of the army that had hunted and slaughtered them for years.

One of the Wildlings rose to his feet and walked through the cluster of prisoners, making his way before Aegon.

He was a tall, broad man. Muscular, and heavy set. He glared at Aegon as he towered over him.

"None of the Free Folk will bow to you, you fucking cunt. Take your offer and ram it up your ass! None of us are afraid of you!" The man snarled, pushing closer to Aegon, as some of the orcs stepped between them, snarling at the man as he advanced.

Aegon nodded, ordering the orcs to step aside as he stepped forward.

The moment an opening was made the Wildling struck out at him, throwing his fist hard towards the side of Aegon's head.

Aegon caught the fist in his hand, holding it, with a look of smoldering anger, and utter resentment.

"Men… you cherish pride, more than your lives." Aegon growled, crushing the Wildling's fist in his hand, causing the man to scream out in pain, and drop to his knees.

With his free hand he tried to push Aegon away, punching at him, and hitting him, none of his blows carrying any force or strength to them, as Aegon now towered over the burly Wildling.

Once the man was on his knees, Aegon released his hand and took hold of the Wildling's head.

A small smile touched at Aegon's lips as he drove his thumbs in the man's eyes, causing his screams to turn into wails of pure agony.

Roars of rage and resentment came from the Wildlings as several rose to their feet, only to immediately be shot with arrows, by the orcs surrounding them.

Aegon continued to gouge out the man's eyes until his screaming stopped. Once it did, he allowed the body to flop lifelessly to the ground. He then turned his gaze towards the rest of the Wildlings who stared on in terror, anger, and resentment.

Aegon stared at them for a moment, before motioning with his hand, as if gesturing for something to rise up.

With that gesture, dark magic roared out surrounding the fallen body of his kill. The body quickly animated, shifting and lifting itself up, dreadful black and green wisps of magic circling it, as the corpse rose to it's feet. In it's now empty eye sockets, were bright green glows of energy.

"In life or death, you will serve me. They have tried my patience. Remove the end of their smallest finger on one hand, if they choose to submit. Kill the rest." Aegon ordered the undead creature before turning to the orc captain who watched on with glee. "Make sure none of them interfere with his work, and send the children north to The Nightmare Citadel."

As Aegon marched away, wiping the blood from his hands, screams erupted from the crowd as children were snatched from their mothers, who tried to beg for them, and even swearing to serve, in the hopes of keeping their babes.

Aegon simply shook his head and ignored them. A lesson needed to be learned. When the Dark Lord made you an offer, you took it, because if he made another, it would not turn out as well for you.

A few hours later, Aegon had Benjen, along with a few former members of the Night's Watch, brought to him in his tent.

"Your grace." Benjen offered upon their arrival, introducing the four men with him, as Grenn, Samwell, Edd, and Karl.

The five men offered him bows, a quick glance at the four with his uncle, spoke volumes about them. Grenn was cautious, and a bit unnerved, Sam was fearful, and doing what he could to maintain his composure, Edd was unnerved, but doing a better job than Sam and Grenn, at keeping himself from looking afraid, and the last, Karl… well with that one, Aegon spotted something very familiar in the man's eyes. In his eyes, he saw ruthlessness, the eyes of a hardened killer.

"Uncle. Thank you for coming. I would like to hear from these men, the compositions of the Wildling forces. How they fought, their troop numbers, anything that they can tell me about them, will help me beat them." Aegon stated motioning for the five men to approach.

Also in the tent, standing near motionlessly in the shadows were two of the Nine, their presence giving off an aura of dread. To the four newcomers, they seemed almost like statues, if it weren't for the gentle movement of their cloaks.

"Tell me everything you remember, anything you might have overheard, anything that could be useful information. My army is prepared to march on Mance's. There's only sixty miles between here and the Wall, he has no more room to run. Either I'll smash him against the Wall, or I'll hit him while he's attempting to cross it, either way, I'll be better served, knowing exactly what he has at his disposal." Aegon instructed them, earning slow nods, as they shared glances with one another.

"Well… where do we start?" Grenn openly wondered.

"Start at the beginning, the moments leading up to the attack. Tell me everything." Aegon instructed, and so they did.

Five days later, and Aegon's army arrived upon a peculiar sight.

A massive fire lit across the southern end of the Haunted Forest. It's reason for being there was unknown, maybe as a signal, maybe to try and slow them down. All it did do though was illuminate the Wildling assault on the Wall.

Aegon wasted little time in ordering an assault on the Wildling camps, while half of the warriors were busy laying siege to the Wall.

They fell on them in the dark of night, cutting their way through thousands of unorganized men and women. There was little need to launch a highly organized strike against the Wildlings, all that was needed was a powerful cavalry charge, into their encampments. Wargs, Caragors, and Spiders swarmed amongst their ranks, tearing into them, and causing chaos amongst the Wildlings, as the army of orcs, uruks, and trolls surged out of the forests and slaughtered every man or woman, with a weapon.

As the attack carried on, Aegon, Midir and two of the Nazgul, descended from the clouds and attacked any Wildling who wandered out of the forest and into the open. The Nazgul let out terrible wails that sent men and women to their knees, clutching at their ears in pure terror, while the sight of Midir, drove any who looked upon the giant dragon to despair.

Within an hour, Aegon's forces had pushed to the Wall, where they found the gate to Castle Black open, and the Wildlings rapidly pouring through, trying to escape.

Aegon gave the order to run them all down.

While his army fought on the ground, Aegon crested the wall and examined the situation in Castle Black. From the looks of things, the Wildlings had infiltrated the castle from the South and opened the Gates for their brethren. The Night's Watch had suffered a crushing defeat here, but the Wildlings would get little chance to savor their victory.

"Midir! Keep the Wildlings from fleeing!" Aegon commanded, his voice piercing the wind and carrying through the air, to Lilith's pet.

The Dragon let out a violent roar and flew over the wall, descending on it's southern side.

Around Castle Black, troops of Wildlings were scattering into the South, running as far and as fast as they could, Midir fell upon them, releasing an inferno of orangish-black flames. Cursed flames, that were given to the dragon by Lilith. These flames were much like Fiendfyre, in that they could not be extinguished with water, and would burn ceaselessly for a full day and night before going out. Only Midir and Lilith knew how to extinguish the Dragon's cursed flames.

Very quickly, a wall of fire encircled the area surrounding Castle Black, trapping the Wildlings within.

Aegon and his Fellbeast sat perched atop the Wall as the battle raged beneath them. Now trapped, the Wildlings fought tooth and nail for their survival. They tried and failed to close the tunnel as Aegon's army stormed out of the Haunted Forest and cut down everyone who tried to fight back. They made it into the tunnel before the Wildlings could shut it, and were able to push into the castle and reopen the gate for the rest of the army to pour through.

Within two hours, it was over.

The Wildling's attempt to make it across the Wall had succeeded for all of a few minutes, before the horrors they ran from, fell upon them.

By the Battle's end, less then forty men of the Night's Watch were left alive in Castle Black, most of them had been atop the Wall during the attack, and had remained there as the enemy stormed the castle below and opened the gates.

Of the Wildling host, which had been nearly a hundred thousand strong, consisting of men, women, and children, nearly half were dead by battle's end, and another ten thousand would perish from their wounds, by the time dawn came around.

The first great battle of his campaign, against one of the largest armies in Westoros, had met with incredible success. Compared to the Wildlings, Aegon had lost less than six thousand orcs, uruks, and olegs, by the time it all was said and done with. Most of those had died fighting through the expanse of Mance Rayder's army beyond the Wall.

Come the dawn, the devastation was fully unveiled for all to see.

Mountainous piles of bodies were set out beyond the Wall, in preparation for a great act of Dark Magic. Aegon intended to use his necromancer powers to raise all 60,000 dead men, to serve him in preparations for their return to Arda.

Such a force was an excellent resource to be exploited, as the wights could be directed to do anything, from fighting, to assisting in building, to basic tasks of repetition, such as farming, mining, guarding, or even delivering messages. Wights lacked intelligence for complex tasks, but they had a degree of problem solving ability, and would focus on their task, until it was done, or there was no way possible for them to continue it.

Such a massive force could easily be used to repair the castles on the wall, and begin construction of new ones, by digging foundation on the northern side. Or this same force could be sent through the portal back to Arda, where they could spread out across Mordor, and begin rebuilding fortifications there.

The possibilities were near limitless, however so many bodies would need a powerful, focused, and timely ritual to raise, so for now, Aegon would simply have their bodies gathered, and send word to his sister, with his idea.

He was certain he could accomplish this task on his own, but it would take time, however with both he and Lilith combining their powers, they could manage this far quicker and more effectively.

Later that day Aegon ordered Mance Rayder be found, dead or alive, and brought to him. The pretext presented was that it was now time for the King Beyond the Wall to negotiate the fate of his people.

Come nightfall, he'd been found, and brought into Castle Black, along with a dozen other Wildlings. Most, if not all of these individuals were tribe leaders of some sort, people the Wildlings looked to for guidance. They were escorted into the courtyard of Castle Black, Aegon stood above them, staring down from his platform. By his side were several former brothers of the Night's Watch, that had sworn oaths to Aegon, as well as some of his top warchiefs.

Surrounding the Wildling delegation was a contingent of Uruk-hai, all armed with spears, ready to skewer the Wildlings, if they stepped even a single toe out of line.

"You're Mance Rayder?" Aegon inquired, focused on the older, hardened looking man, who stood at the front of the Wildling troop.

"Aye. I am. And you're the one leading these monsters to murder my people." Mance Rayder responded.

"Not always. My name is Aegon of house Targaryen. The army that hunted you down, served Queen Lilith, the undying. The Queen of Fire, Shadow, and Winter. I stand in service to her. By her command, I hunted you down, and by her leave, your fates are now mine to decide." Aegon responded as he stared down at them.

"I see. So… what'll it be? You gonna have that dragon roast us? Have your monsters eat us?" Mance asked in response, maintaining his composure, even as the eyes of his fellows began to shift at the mention of their imminent execution.

"Over Forty Thousand Wildlings still live. Many of them women and children. Those who can't fight. I'm willing to make you an offer. You'll only get it once. Bow to me. Swear your allegiance to me. Swear to follow my commands, and adhere to my laws. Do this, and I will allow all of your people south of the Wall. From the Wall to the edge of the New Gift, I will make you the Lord of that territory. There's plenty of space for you to settle. Swear to adhere to my instructions, and I will allow you to leave this battlefield with your lives. Refuse, and I'll have every able bodied man and woman sent to my Queen in the Far North. There she will keep you, until your dying days, and long after. Refuse, and your children will be stripped from you, and raised by my army, to serve me. Refuse, and your culture, your way of life… will die with you, here today. That is my offer. You cannot hope for anything better. I am a gracious man, and I do not like to waste resources that are useful. But if you are going to continue to be a problem for me, than I'll deal with that problem now." Aegon dictated to them, his gaze heavy and piercing.

There was a malevolence within his eyes, something that unnerved the Wildlings as they stared up at him. Despite his youth, and average stature, his commanding aura, and the feeling of dread that seemed to radiate off of him, left him as an almost overwhelming presence.

To the Wildlings looking up at him, it almost seemed as if his shadow were rising up the buildings behind him darkening the area in a foreboding and unnatural way.

Mance was silent for a moment as he shared glances with some of his lieutenants. They all knew they were in a dangerous situation. Aegon had the power to slaughter them all to the last man, and they knew that his army could raise the dead as wights.

"What guarantees do we have that you'll honor your word?" Came the question from one of the chieftains, standing by Mance's side.

"I don't care about you. Or your people. Or your culture for that matter. I have need of working bodies. Living bodies, can make more living bodies. I could kill you all, get an army of wights out of it. An army that never tires, never complains, and will never turn on me. Or I can spare you. Allow you to live under my rule, serve in my armies, fight for me. And the day may come where great men rise into my service, men who will prove invaluable in the wars to come. There is power in the blood of the First Men. You either trust what I say as truth, or you don't. In the end, it doesn't matter. I have every single Wildling left in the world, surrounded by my army out there. With a single command they'll butcher you all, and I'll simply take your children to raise as loyal soldiers. I don't care about your ways, or you. Make the choice, because I have work to do. You have until tomorrow morning to deliver your decision to me. Come the dawn, you'll either kneel, or I will break you." Aegon responded, turning and marching away as he finished.

He was followed by his uncle Benjen, along with Karl Tanner, and Grenn.

"Do you really plan on giving those savages the Gift your grace?" Karl Tanner inquired as they marched.

Some of the nearby orcs tensed at the man addressing the Dark Lord without being addressed first.

"Yes. If everything goes according to plan, then my cousin Robb will bend the knee to me. But if for whatever reason he doesn't, or if the North decides to rebel against his decision. Forty thousand Wildlings between us and them, sounds rather reasonable, don't you think?" Aegon responded, stopping and turning to address the man's question.

"You intend to use them as a shield?" Benjen noted.

"I intend for them to work for their place in this world. Part of that, will be serving as defenders of my kingdom. What better way to force men to fight for you, than by making them think they're fighting for their homes." Aegon responded, earning a nod of understanding from Benjen, and the others.

"What will you do with the survivors from the Night's Watch, your grace?" Grenn asked.

"My armies are already spreading across the Wall taking castle by castle. Once they reach the Shadow Tower, and Eastwatch by the Sea, they'll be given the same offer I gave you and yours. I'll take the castles without bloodshed if I can, and abolish the Night's Watch, under my rule. Those men will be freed from their oaths, and free to join my army, or I can find work for them, based on their skills." Aegon answered.

With their questions answered, Aegon turned and continued onward to where the survivors from Castle Black were being held.

A small smirk touched at his lips, when he noticed the looks the orcs were sharing with one another, surprised that the men hadn't been lashed for speaking out of turn in front of the Dark Lord. A fine dynamic that the orcs would have to understand, as would the men under his command. Aegon was approachable as a king, he was meant to appear as a great ruler, and a great ruler inspires direction from his subordinates.

As the Dark Lord, he is meant to tower above them, to be unreachable. But as a King, he is meant to be their leader, and the best kind of leaders, are those that inspire loyalty in their subordinates. Domination was useful, and had it's place, but the best servants were those that were fanatically loyal to their master, and such devotion was gained far easier from acts of grace, than acts of tyranny. Fear, Respect, Devotion, and Love. A great ruler must have all of these things, in order to secure his position. Such things cannot be gained from standing atop a pedestal and never coming down. As Aegon Targaryen, he must appear as a King. As Sauron he must appear as the Dark Lord.

Here, on the ground, in these halls, he was a King. And as a King it would serve him better to hear the thoughts, ideas, and musings of his servants, to better understand how they saw things, and his actions, and it also helped to gauge their reactions to his plans, to see how they felt about his directions. True manipulation was the art of subtlety, and there was no better way to determine the effect of a decision than to watch the reaction of several servants as it's being made.

To often, rulers focused on the source of the decision, rather than those around them. The Wildlings were the enemy, their feelings did not matter, what did matter was the emotions of those that were sworn to him. How they felt about his decisions would gauge their loyalty and determine just how devoted they were to him.

Besides all of that, patience was something that Sauron had long learned to be very good at. He was in no rush, kingdoms would rise and fall and he would still be around. So taking time to plot and plan and coordinate was key to victory. If he felt so inclined, Aegon could remain here on the Wall for a century, securing the loyalty of the Wildlings, and converting them to his cause. He didn't believe they were worth such time and effort, but if he did feel so inclined, there was little stopping him from doing so.

He hoped the actions of these men would inspire the orcs to speak up more in his presence. Despite their viciousness, orcs were quite loyal to those they chose to follow, and those they believed in. An army that fought loyally was far more useful than one that fought out of fear. As Sauron he had seen what fear accomplished. When the Númenóreans came for him, his army broke and fled at the mere sight of that massive force in their golden armor. That was what fear accomplished.

When they returned to Arda, they would face all the armies of the Free people, and then they would march on Valinor, if the Valar didn't come to fight them first. The orcs would face off against the children of the Valar, the great elven armies of old, and Aegon would not have them break and flee like they did before.

When next they fought Eru, if would be as a force united, in their hatred of him and his creations. They would wash across Arda, as an army, dedicated to the two Lords of Darkness at it's helm. Sauron and Lilith.

Of the survivors from the attack on Castle Black, only three were of note. Maester Aemon Targaryen, Aegon's Great-Great Uncle. The old man was quite bewildered to hear about Aegon's existence, and nearly cried when he heard Midir roaring and flying above the castle.

Aegon had plans for the old man, someone as long lived and wise as him, with powerful magic running through his veins. Despite Aemon's age, he would make a powerful servant indeed.

The second of note was Ser Alliser. A former Targaryen loyalist, who'd been sent to the Wall by Ned Stark. This left Ser Alliser in a unique position, as he hated Ned Stark, but loved Rhaegar Targaryen. The man was a hardened warrior and a skilled ranger, and yet the way he paled when he learned that the bastard boy he belittled during his short stay on the Wall was actually the son of the beloved Prince Rhaegar, made Aegon smirk.

The last person of note was the craven former commander of the City Watch in King's Landing, Janos Slynt. The man who had plenty to say about what had been going on in the south.

"Dead?" Aegon repeated, eyeing the man intently, while Benjen fumed in the corner.

"Yes, your grace. When King Robert died from his injuries, Lord Stark came forward and proclaimed that King Joffrey was not the rightful king. He proclaimed that Stannis Baratheon was the rightful king and that Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen were bastards born from Queen Cercei and Ser Jaime." Janos explained to Aegon, and Benjen.

"So he was arrested and executed for treason?" Aegon clarified.

"Yes, your grace" Janos responded.

Benjen growled and bit back a curse, while Aegon let out a saddened sigh, knowing full well that this was the reason why Sansa's and Robb's dreams were filled with the death's of Lannisters.

"What of the Starks? What is happening down south, now that Robert and Ned are dead?" Aegon asked.

"War, your grace. The Baratheon brothers turned on each other and the throne, each proclaiming they were the rightful heir. Balon Greyjoy has rebelled again and begun attacking the Northern coast, and Robb Stark has been named King in North, and marches south with a Northern army, and the aid of the Riverlands." Janos responded.

"Well… seems the South is in the shit now. Tell me, lord Janos, what role did you play during the events of Eddard Stark's treason?" Aegon inquired after a moment of silence.

Benjen's gaze snapped to the man, fury filling his eyes, while Janos stuttered a bit and struggled to recompose himself.

"I stayed loyal to the crown, your grace. When Ned Stark tried to buy my loyalty, I refused. I remained loyal to King Joffrey, who I believed was the rightful heir of King Robert." Janos responded nervously.

"That's all well and good, Lord Janos, but I asked what role you played in those events. Telling me why you did what you did, does not tell me 'what' you did." Aegon clarified, stepping towards the man as he did, while Benjen grew more furious, his features becoming more wolf-like as his anger grew.

Janos seemed to notice this, and stepped back from the former First Ranger.

"I…"

"Do not lie to me. It is a crime to lie to a king." Aegon commanded, taking another step towards him.

"I protected King Joffrey. When Ned Stark and his men tried to depose him, I ordered my men to kill Ned Stark's men. I followed my oaths, and my orders…" Janos responded quickly, backing away even further.

"So you left my uncle defenseless. And because of that, Joffrey Waters, had him killed with his own Valyrian Steel sword." Aegon pressed, his voice cold and even, yet carrying a menace to it, that caused Janos to drop to his knees, cowering fearfully.

"Please your grace, mercy! I only did as I was bid! I'm sorry! Please!" Janos begged, shaking and crying as he sensed his imminent death.

"Tell me… Lord Janos. When my uncle came to you, asked for your aid in supporting who he believed was the rightful heir, did you choose to deny him because of your oaths, or was there another reason?" Aegon asked, his voice gentle, quiet, and passive, even as he stood over the cowering man.

"I was staying true to my oaths! Like I said! I thought he was a traitor! I was wrong! I'm sorry! I didn't know!" Janos replied quickly, tears building in his eyes, as his dread and terror grew.

"I learned a great deal in my time with Lilith, and on my own. Magic has ways of sussing out the truth of things. For someone like you though, pain will suffice quite sufficiently." Aegon hummed, his wand appearing in his hand.

Benjen saw the stick of wood slide out from Aegon's sleeve, and it momentarily broke him of his rage, as it was such a strange sight, than the end of it began to glow a dim gray.

"Crucio." Aegon said with an elegant hand motion.

Janos Slynt went down screaming, his body arching in pain. He shook and twisted, flopping about and began to spasm as his body was wracked with the pain of a thousand burning hot blades scrapping under the skin.

This continued for all of three seconds, as Benjen watched in dumbfounded amazement. He could clearly see that it was Aegon who was doing this to Janos, without needing to touch him. He kept the stick of wood trained on the man's writhing body, and in his eyes, Benjen could see nothing but cold resentment.

Finally, Aegon removed his wand from it's aim at Janos and knelt over him.

"I told you it was a crime to lie to a king. You may not have sworn any oaths to me yet, but I've taken this wall and made you my prisoners. By the rights of conquest and war, I can do whatever I please with you. Lie to me again… and it will be worse." Aegon said quietly to the cowering man.

Janos was shaking and crying, huddled in the fetal position on the floor, as Aegon knelt over him.

"Please..." He muttered quietly.

"Answer my question." Aegon commanded.

"It was Littlefinger… and the Queen. They paid me, had my loyalty. I'm sorry…" Janos said softly as he wept, his body still shaking from the pain.

Aegon let out a sigh at that and rose to his feet.

A word in the Black Speech led to the guards outside the door coming in, two uruks of impressive stature.

"Take him outside, let him meet Skausan-Eaavas." Aegon ordered, turning away from Janos as the man was lifted off his feet, still shaking and whimpering.

Outside many got to watch as Janos was dragged out of Castle Black and towards where the three Fellbeasts lay, sleeping quietly. As soon as they heard Janos' crying and begging, the three stirred, the largest of which was Aegon's mount, Skausan-Eaavas, literally meaning 'Sky Eater" in the Black Speech of Mordor. It's very name caused dread in those who heard it. The beast was pure black, and emanated with an aura of pure dread, and carnal hunger.

The two uruks were quick to toss Janos towards the beast and back away before it could reach them.

Janos slowly rose to his knees as he laid eyes on the giant winged terror.

The beast took in a few breaths, taking in Janos' scent. It then lunged forward, sinking it's teeth into the man's shoulder.

Janos' screamed in agony as he was lifted off the ground. His torment didn't last long as the Fellbeast sunk it's teeth even deeper, and jolted the man's body harshly with a whip of it's powerful neck, dislocating most of Janos' bones and killing him near instantly as it shook him back and forth.

Soon it was joined by the other two Fellbeasts as they took hold of Janos' legs and tore them free from his body, all three quickly devouring the former watch commander.

Back in the Lord-Commander's office that Aegon had taken for his own, Aegon and Benjen stood in silence.

"I'm sorry uncle." Aegon stated, his voice conveying his genuine sorrow for the loss of a man who was a much better father, to Aegon, than anyone else in his long life had been.

"You have nothing to apologize for. If Ned is dead, chances are good that Sansa and Arya are being held captive at the capitol." Benjen responded quietly.

"I know. We wont waste any time. I'll deal with the Wildlings in the morning, and then we'll march south to Winterfell." Aegon responded, earning a nod from his uncle who's blood was now boiling for a fight with the Lannisters.

"Let us mourn our losses uncle, but let us not be consumed by them. We can still save those who live. We will remember Ned Stark for all that he was to us, and we will fight to avenge his death. I swear to you, the Lannisters will pay for this." Aegon said to his uncle, his own wolfish features becoming apparent as he allowed his mask to fall, and his anger to show itself.

Again Benjen nodded and turned his gaze out the window. The last of his siblings was gone now, but Ned's children still remained. They had to get south, and quickly, the sooner they arrived, the sooner they could aid Robb in retrieving his sisters from King's Landing, and avenging Ned's death.

It had taken less than ten years, but another war, had taken hold of the seven kingdoms.

**-To be continued-**

_**K hope you all enjoyed so far. More to come later.**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**K, here's the next chapter for you guys, hope you all enjoy, and just so you know, I will be drawing from several sources for the LOTR material, including the Shadow of Mordor, and Shadow of War, games, for things like orc captains/warchiefs, a bit on the rings, and certain characters. I'll also be drawing from the movie version of events for both the LOTR and the Hobbit, as I've actually seen those. I will also be taking bits and pieces for the Lord of the Rings Online MMO, which I've recently started playing.**_

_**With all that said, I will also have bits and pieces from minor crossover material like Dark Souls, for example, though I might do larger crossovers with other fandoms it I find the story I come up with is strong enough.**_

_**So just so everyone is aware, this wont follow canon from any of the mediums to a tee, as I will be trying to adequately blend them together to form a coherent story.**_

**Darkness Reborn**

Chapter 9

Aegon stood in silence, as his gaze stretched out over the far south. Come the dawn, the Wildlings would be made to choose their fate. Submission and life, or servitude and death. He had done as Lilith had commanded, and he was eager to report to her about his accomplishment and what he had learned from Janos Slynt about the events occurring down south.

With that in mind, Aegon apparated back to Tantibus Arcis, arriving in the main tower, before his sister's throne, only to find it empty.

He stared at the empty throne for several long moments before he felt her presence above him. He quickly made his way to the top of the tall tower, to find his sister, standing at it's center, staring up at the aurora filled, night sky.

"The Wall has fallen. The Night's Watch have been broken, and the Wildlings have been crushed. All has gone according to plan, master." Aegon reported, earning her gaze.

"I see." Lilith responded, turning her gaze back to the sky, searching it for something.

"What are your orders, my master." Aegon asked, eyeing her curiously, and earning her gaze once more.

"What do you want?" Lilith inquired, surprising him.

"I'm sorry?" Aegon responded.

"What do you want, baby brother? You come here reporting your success and awaiting my instructions. You, who has conquered and dominated for millennia, do not need my guidance in all things, so why are you here?" Lilith clarified.

"You are my master. I would not dare to deem myself capable of advancing outside of your grand design." Aegon responded, earning a look of contempt from Lilith who's glare deepened in response to his lack of a true answer.

"What do you want?" Lilith demanded again.

"I wish to stand by your side, and serve, until the end of days." Aegon responded.

"Liar!" Lilith snapped, her magics lashing out, and causing the world to tremble in response to her growing anger.

Aegon was silent for a moment, before correcting himself. "I wish to stand by your side, and rule with you, together, until the end of days."

"You seek something I once would have offered you so willingly, and yet you only now seek it, after your betrayal was complete?" Lilith growled in response.

"I made a mistake, long ago. I betrayed the woman I loved, because I was afraid of the dark. I feared the shadows, the darkness in you, and the darkness within myself. There is no way to apologize for the things I did to you. All I can do now, is serve as your instrument, in the hopes that you will one day see that my love for you in genuine, and as a dark lord, or as an urchin beneath the stairs, my affections for you haven't changed." Aegon said to her, his gaze soft, and caring, but also filled with sorrow, and regret.

Lilith fumed, anger dancing across her face, as her eyes smoldered. "How am I ever to trust you again? Without trust, there can be no forgiveness. Without trust, how can I ever offer you my heart?"

"I have no answer, other than I will prove my loyalty, for as long as it takes. I do not desire to serve you, I desire to stand by your side, the two of us, working together, as we were always meant to. I will continue to prove myself, until you see what lays within my heart." Aegon answered.

Lilith's eyes continued to bore into him, as she took in his words. She knew she wanted such a thing, she wanted him by her side, she wanted him as a lover, and an equal. She wanted someone she could count on and confide in. She'd been alone for so long, and she knew she needed him. But how does one forgive such betrayal? How does one forgive all of the fighting and pain?

She needed a way to trust him. Until she did, she would never stop doubting him. Until she knew for certain that he was ready to fully offer himself to her, and forsake all others, she couldn't let him in.

With a wave of her hand, a wall of black and blue fire, exploded between them, separating the two.

"Prove your loyalty than. Prove it, baby brother." Lilith commanded as she stepped back, and eyed him intently.

Aegon gazed at the blue and black flames, taking in the sight of the age old spell. Protego Diabolica, a protective spell that would incinerate anyone who passed through the flames, if they intended harm upon the caster, or they were disloyal.

Such a powerful spell was difficult to cast, and even more difficult to maintain, yet it was an effective method of determining one's loyalty as it was quite definitive in whether in hurt you or not. If you intended the caster harm in any way, you were burned to ash, if you didn't fully believe in the caster or their agenda, you were burned to ash. Even if you only partially believed in the caster or their agenda, if you had any doubts, the flames would still cause you excruciating pain, pain so great that the caster would definitely see your reaction, and know of the doubt in your heart, and if you remained in the flames for to long, you would then be turned to ash.

Lilith had her doubts about him. She expected him to step into the flames, and at worst, his new body would be turned to ash, undoing all of his hard work and returning him to a spirit form since the Ring still existed, and at best, she expected him to display a great deal of pain, upon passing through the flames. Either way, Lilith expected her concerns to be validated by this test.

Aegon would show her otherwise. Upon her command, he stepped into the flame, but instead of pushing through to her, he stopped within the blazing inferno and locked eyes with her.

The searing heat, danced across his skin, but it did not burn him. The blaze licked at his flesh, but dealt him no pain. He did not flinch, or wince, or cry aloud, for the flames inflicted no pain upon his body.

He could see the surprise on her face, and while it did hurt to confirm her doubt in him, he was quite proud to know that he had exceeded her expectations, and seeing an opportunity, he advanced through the flames and approached his sister.

Her expression was that of disbelief and confusion, but before she could compose herself or gather her thoughts, he took her face in his hands and kissed her.

The kiss held for several long moments as Lilith was simply left stunned.

After a moment, Aegon felt her push him back, forcefully separating the two, and forcing him to meet her gaze.

The blazing inferno of her eyes was quickly softening, as she brought up a hand to brush her lips. Aegon grinned, a very prideful smirk, as he saw her start to smile, and he refused to hide it when her eyes caught sight of it.

She stared at him for a moment, before pulling him back, her lips, meeting with his.

The two continued to kiss, their lips dancing together, in a rather chaste kiss, that reminded Aegon of how she would kiss before she had regained her memories. It was gentle, soft even, so very unlike the powerful woman she was.

Yet it was wonderful, something Aegon had desired since the moment he began planning the creation of a new body. The chance to kiss her again, to feel her lips, for real.

She separated from him again, this time her look was more pleasant, the orange flame of her eyes, almost fully giving way to the emerald green of her childhood.

She stared at him, a smile forming across her face, "Oh how I have longed to feel your lips upon mine, once more baby brother. The memories of you kiss when I did not have my memories was of little comparison to now."

"I am happy to have pleased you. I do hope you will consider me, the next time you desire such things." He teased her, pressing towards her, gently attempting an embrace, which she accepted.

The two held each other, as they locked eyes, and for the first time in a long while, a peaceful silence held over the dark fortress.

"So, what now?" Aegon inquired.

"Forgiveness can only come with trust… you've been by my side for so long now, and you walked through the flames without any pain. I know I should trust you, for all that you've done for me. In truth, you've spent more time as my servant and faithful ally, than you have my enemy, and yet… the pain of those days, the scars, still feel fresh. I want to heal from that pain. I can only do that by forgiving you. So I will. I'll forgive you for the mistakes of the past, and we will start anew, here and now." Lilith said to him, earning a smile and a nod of agreement.

"I am yours, and you are mine, now and always." Aegon said, his eyes lighting up with passion and commitment.

"I am yours, and you are mine. I like the sound of that. So that is how it shall be." Lilith replied, pulling him into an embrace, which he returned with gusto.

"So… my dearest Aegon, if I am to be your Queen, you should treat me as such." Lilith whispered into his ear, causing him to smile.

"I intend to, my love. I will shower you with affection, and spoil you rotten." Aegon responded to her.

Lilith chuckled again, before a feeling overtook her senses and she pulled free of him, turning her gaze back towards the sky, as she had been doing when he had first arrived.

"What is it?" Aegon asked, following her gaze up to the heavens.

"I feel something… something familiar. Something that shouldn't be here, but it is." Lilith noted, scanning the skies. Finally her eyes fell on a red glow, passing high in the heavens, hidden amongst the aurora the dominated the night sky.

Aegon spotted it as well, a comet, streaking red, hidden by the northern lights. As his gaze focused on it, he too felt something familiar, and just as with Lilith, he knew it didn't belong.

Suddenly a red burst, emanated from the commit, like a stroke of light. From the comet, a dark orange glow broke off, and fell towards the Earth.

Both watched as it fell further and further, falling close to where their fortress resided.

Silence held as they watched it's decent, when suddenly Lilith broke into a smile.

She was quickly gone, her shadow, taken to the skies and heading west, where the falling light would seemingly land.

Aegon was quick to follow her, staying close to her side. He knew what she was thinking, and he suspected she was right, this feeling was far to familiar to be anything else.

The two appear atop of a cliff face, overlooking a vast expanse of frozen wastes. The orange light slammed hard into the ground, before them, shaking the area with it's impact. Flames exploded outwards and high into the sky, as an otherworldly roar pierced the air.

From the crater, a figure of fire and shadow emerged. Stepping up out and gazing around before turning it's gaze to the cliff where they stood.

Wings of shadow formed around the creature as it took flight, moving towards them, as it approached, heat scorched outward, melting the snow and ice nearby.

The being landed before them, dropping to a knee and bowing before Lilith.

"Khulvar… my dear servant, you've returned to me." Lilith greeted the Balrog, her grin never leaving her.

Aegon analyzed the being of shadow as it knelt before Lilith. Even on a knee, it towered over her, despite not being a bestial form.

Much like Dathrag, this Balrog could shapeshift. In the early days, the Balrog often appeared as large, humanoid figures, though by the time of the War of Wrath, they had changed their appearance, becoming more beast-like and vicious, a form more suited to war and fighting.

It seemed this one had returned to it's original form, more than likely to avoid detection while it made it's way here. Aegon's eyes drifted up to the Red comet in the sky, he could feel the magic that radiated from the flying red star, and it was apparent that, those magics held great ties to the void, and possibly connected to it, if the Balrog, Khulvar was able to make it here by using it.

Slowly the Balrog rose it's feet, fire and shadow exploding outward as it assumed it's more bestial form. (**Durin's Bane)**

No sooner than it had, did Dathrag land beside them, eager to greet his old comrade, both Balrog were quick to roar triumphantly to one another.

"Two of the seven, returned to us." Lilith mused.

"Sadly, I do not think more will come." Aegon said to her.

"We'll just have to see. Perhaps time will reveal others hidden in the deep places of the world. After all, one was hiding here for the longest time." Lilith responded optimistically, earning a smile of agreement from Aegon.

"**My master… I have returned to you side once more. What is thy bidding?" **Khulvar inquired to her.

"Come, my old friend. I will share with you our plans." Lilith offered, gesturing towards their fortress on the horizon as she turned and began to head in that direction.

"Yes, I do have a bit of information for you as well. One of the reasons I came here to report on my success." Aegon said to her as they began to walk.

Lilith nodded at that, and the four quickly returned to the citadel, where Aegon and Lilith informed the Balrog of their plans, and where they were. Aegon also took the opportunity to report on what he had learned from Janos Slynt in regards to the war down south.

It had only been a year and a half since he had left Winterfell, and yet it seemed the whole world had been flipped on it's head. Unfortunately this was not the first time such a thing had happened, and it wouldn't be the last, such was the chaos of mortals.

Aegon had seen it all his life. No matter how good people had it, someone was always suffering, and eventually, those people would have enough, and rise up to either overthrow or tear down the system.

It was a lesson that had been beaten into him by Lilith during their first war. So many friends turned on friends, so many countries that swallowed themselves in civil wars. Even before he had left the Earth, he had seen time and again that humans, if left to their own devices, will always fight each other. Lilith had proven that by simply showing him how many people chose to fight for her, rather than the supposed 'light' faction.

He was forced to see that not everything was black and white. Good people, innocent people, had chosen to follow Lilith's beliefs for their own reasons, be in protection, ideology, survival, greed. No matter what the situation, there would always people who chose differently.

The worst thing about humans, the absolute worst thing that Aegon despised about them the most, was their inability to forget their pride, in the face of catastrophe. Set a forest on fire, and leave a group of humans to put it out. If you're very lucky, someone amongst the group will organize the rest and come up with a plan to deal with the flames. However, if you aren't lucky, someone in the group wont agree. Even if they force themselves to go along with the rest, because of the majority ruling, the one detractor will still feel insulted and wounded because his or her answer wasn't chosen.

It happened more often than people realized, and it was these detractors who always split the majority, creating new majorities. These new majorities would than challenge other majorities until there was only one left, and then the detractors came around again, and the cycle continued. Everyone wanted to be right, everyone wanted to be on the side of the righteous, everyone was the hero of their own story. And because of their pride, humans would always allow themselves to feel wounded by minor snubs, and they'd often hold onto them, blowing things out of proportions, leaving misery in their hearts.

The best of humanity were those that could accept failure, those that could accept that their way was not the best.

When Lilith was captured by the enemy, Aegon had not slipped into a violent rage and thrown a tantrum, instead he bided his time, and built his own force to challenge the free peoples. When his army scattered at the sight of the golden army of Númenor, he had accepted imprisonment, and did so with such grace that he was able to rise again within their ranks and destroy that once great people from within.

Accepting failure, allowed one to grow, and it was from his failures that some of his greatest accomplishments had sprung forth.

Aegon had long since lost his ability to see a future for people as a whole. When challenged by wondrous goals, they could accomplish amazing things, but in the end, they would go right back to fighting over foolish snubs, or age old grudges that no one alive today had any hand in creating. Sometimes it seemed like people would choose to fight over anything, so long as they didn't have to admit that they were wrong, and after years of dealing with this in his war with Lilith, Aegon had lost his hope in people as a whole.

He knew what they could accomplish, if given the right tools, and the right motivations, he had lived during an age of such wonders, that had little if anything to do with magic. Space flight, electricity, exploring the universe, exploring the oceans, manipulating the atom, all wondrous things that just humanity had managed on it's own, without the need to for magic. He knew that with a guiding hand, they could reach such heights again, and with the aid of magic, and the other races, the things that could be accomplished, would be unimaginable.

Aegon intended to be that guiding hand. With Lilith's lust for creation, his desire for order, and their joined desire for control and dominion, they would bring the chaos of the world to heel. First here in these lands, and then in Arda, and any worlds that came after it.

"**As I was departing into the void, I felt magic reaching out to me from somewhere in the east. One of our own was trying to find me, or perhaps, track me."** Khulvar offered to Lilith, earning a curious look from her in the process.

"A maiar in the east? One of the Balrog?" Lilith inquired.

"**No. Someone else." **Khulvar answered.

"One of the Blue Istari. Alatar or Pallando." Aegon stated, his gaze turning to meet with Lilith's.

"The nuisances that were disrupting your forces in the east? They must have sensed the rousing of the Balrog, and sought to learn of it's movements." Lilith surmised.

"What are the chances they find their way here?" Aegon inquired.

"You did." Lilith responded.

Aegon was silent for a moment before he let out a chuckle. "Let us hope our old friends find their way here. If they manage it, that'll be two of the five Istari we can check off our list."

Lilith smirked at that, agreeing with him. If the blue wizards or any of the Ainur came to these lands, Lilith's forces would kill them. And here, so far from their precious Valinor, if killed, their spirits would wonder this world or get lost in the void, forever seeking their home. A dreadful fate for those fallen spirits, but a destined one, should they choose to tread where they are not wanted.

Lilith truly did hope some of the Ainur found their way here, no longer did she fear them or their elven servants. Her power had been restored, and she had freed herself from Eru's control. She had unlocked the constraints on her power, and she would no longer diminish with time, as she was certain Eru, had intended. When she returned to Arda, the Ainur would face the full of her power, and be destroyed, and their elven servants enslaved.

"What are your orders, Lilith?" Aegon asked of her, as their meeting grew silent.

"Aegon, order your Nazgûl to return here, send one through the portal and have it travel to Dol Guldur, to join with the other three there. The remaining five will join us as we march south. Dathrag, you will return to Valyria and take command of the Witch King's duties. Prepare our forces for conquest in the east, upon my orders, you will initiate an attack on the continent, until then, prepare. Khulvar, you will take command of the Far North. Aegon has begun the construction of infrastructure, all throughout the lands beyond the Wall. You will see these tasks to completion and ensure the fortification of our Northernmost realm." Lilith ordered the three of them.

"You intend to come south with me?" Aegon inquired.

"I do. Our ruse will be far more effective if I am by your side. A marriage alliance between the Queen of Fire, Shadow, and Winter, and the Dragon-Wolf. Besides that, I have grown tired of remaining here, and wish for the excitement of travel once more. I will go south with you and aid in your conquest of the kingdoms of Westoros. We will send word to the Mouth, have him command the Black Captains to begin preparing our armies for war. Have the Nazgûl in Arda spread out their spies, order them to begin gathering information on the movements of the Istari. If they are coming here, I want to know about it." Lilith explained to him.

"I will do as you command." Aegon responded with a respectful bow, as did the Balrog. The two mighty beasts, quickly departed leaving Aegon alone with Lilith. "Before we depart, there was something I wished to discuss with you."

"And what would that be, baby brother?" Lilith replied, meeting his gaze.

"A servant, I would like to recall. Given his familial connections to a hated foe of yours, I wished to make you aware of my plans, before going through with them." Aegon explained to her, earning her full attention.

"Go on." She commanded.

"Celebrimbor. The grandson of Fëanor. His spirit resides in the lands of Mordor. Restless and wandering. He is a wraith now, and chooses to remain, most likely out of guilt. He helped me create the rings of power. Were he to be returned to my service, I could use him once again, either to forge further rings, or even to enhance the power of the one's we possess." Aegon informed her, earning a thoughtful look from Lilith.

She was silent for a few moments as she recalled her hated foe. Fëanor had fallen to the Balrog long ago, yet still her hatred for him remained. Binding his grandson into eternal service would be an insult to the elf, that would greatly please her.

"What do you intend to do?" Lilith asked.

"I will order the Black Hand to begin preparing a ritual to bind the elf-wraith into the body of a mortal being. The Black Hand himself should be sufficient. This ritual will allow me to generate an Avatar of my will in Middle Earth. A puppet like being that I can use to direct my forces there, while also binding Celebrimbor to me, through this Avatar, forcing him into my service. The use of a vessel will prevent the elf-wraith from doing me any harm." Aegon explained to her, earning a devilish smirk from his twin.

"Order your servants to begin preparations for this ritual. And… upon it's success, bring the Elf-Lord to me. I want to look into the eyes of Fëanor's grandson as he realizes that I have returned." Lilith ordered.

"I will see it done. It'll be a few years still before such things are properly established, but we have no need to rush. With patience, comes success." Aegon noted, offering a bow before turning to leave.

Before he could depart, a hand caught his arm. He turned back to face Lilith, but was momentarily caught off guard when she pulled him into a kiss.

"Trust starts with forgiveness baby brother. You and I will rebuild that trust, and together we will have our revenge. Our dominion over all of creation, begins now." Lilith whispered to him, moments after they broke contact.

Aegon smirked as the two separated, she was most certainly right. Together they would rule this world, and upon a day, they would return to Arda, and it to would fall before their might.

An hour later, Aegon returned from his meeting with the Mouth of Sauron, delivering his and Lilith's commands to the Mouth.

Aegon then sent word to the Nazgûl in Valyria, ordering the Witch King and his two subordinates to return.

He would soon depart from the Citadel and head back to the Wall. The sun would be rising in an hour or so, and come the dawn he would hear the answer from the Wildlings as to whether or not they'd serve, or be enslaved.

Lilith would return with him, which excited him to no end, and a large force of Ten thousand would march south to join with them, while the remainder of their forces spread out across the far North, establishing further outposts, and constructing new castles, fortresses, and ports.

This army would be led by a giant, one that had been captured nearly two centuries ago.

Aegon grinned maliciously, as he entered into the chamber of the giant lord. This being stood at nearly twenty-five feet tall, standing larger than Graugs, or even other giants here in Westoros. Unlike other giants, who wore thick furs and the like, this giant was clad in armor and chainmail. Upon his chest and back were red hanging cloth, adorned with Aegon's sigil, and across his waist was a knee length red skirt. Covering his head was a chainmail coif and atop his head was a silver crown, adorned with blue jewels. **(Yhorm the giant, DS3 color palette swap.)**

This giant looked like a kingly knight, though his armor was darkened and twisted.

His flesh was blackened, almost like burned wood, and burning flames could be seen beneath the flesh, almost as if his bones were on fire. Long ago had any hair on the titan's fallen off, and his lips had long since fused together, leaving a burned black face, with glowing red eyes, hidden beneath the chainmail and only visible in good lighting. Without the light, the giant appeared to have no face, only two glowing orbs, for eyes, floating in darkness.

Upon this giant's right hand, adorned on a finger, was one of the seven dwarven Rings of Power. At the moment, Sauron had three of the rings in his possession, the rest having been consumed by dragons, and those dragons were either still alive somewhere, or the rings had been lost along with their bones after they died. The one worn by the giant, was Taurya, the first of the Seven Aegon had managed to retrieve long ago.

Much like his One Ring, all of the rings adjusted to fit snugly upon the finger of the wearer, even if that wearer was a giant.

Two hundred years ago, this giant had been a leader of his people. He'd been captured by Lilith's army when he and three others had scouted north in search of a young missing giant that had been captured a month earlier. This had been nearly two centuries ago.

Eager for a powerful prize, Lilith had given the giant one of the rings, at Aegon's suggestion. The giant did not possess the same resistances that the dwarves had shown, and slowly fell into corruption. Just as the nine rings corrupted men, so to did this ring corrupt the giant. Soon the giant fell under Lilith's command and for two centuries it had served her, and she had prepared it to lead armies during war.

She did so, by using an ability that all of the Rings of Power possessed. An ability not even Celebrimbor knew about. Only Sauron was aware of this secret feature of the rings.

Each ring was bound to a single entity, and after a time, the bind became unbreakable. If someone took a ring from one of the Nazgûl, and put it on, the wraith that was bound to the ring would possess the wearer. Taking his memories, and abilities, and adding them to the wraith's own.

This process took time, as the new wearer would need to be corrupted and if they had a strong will, this could take years, but at the end, they would become fully consumed by the Ringwraith. This process could become a double-edged sword, if the person who claimed the ring, was particularly clumsy, cowardly, or generally poorly skilled.

For example, say a great warrior bested one of the Nine in battle and stole their ring. He put it on, and over the course of years, the wraith he bested would come to possess him, body and soul. If he were a great swordsmen, the wraith would gain those skills, if he was a great sorcerer, the wraith would learn those magics. But… if say the great warrior fell in battle with the wraith, and some lowly peasant happened upon the ring, and put it on, he too would be possessed. But if he was craven, or if he was clumsy, or if he was weak, the wraith would in turn, be weakened.

So despite this benefit, such new hosts had to be chosen carefully, to continuously expand the power of the Nazgûl. At the current moment, the Nine were comprised of over a hundred souls. The Witch King held the most, at sixteen different hosts, all of whom were individuals that had been captured, and forced to wear the ring, so that the chief of the Nine could steal their powers. He was only one of two that had never lost his ring in battle before.

Another side effect was that the wraith would gain a few personality traits of it's new host, becoming more aggressive, more patient, more insightful, or prideful, depending on the host, which is why cowards and cravens were to never come into possession of the rings, to avoid weakening the Nine, which had happened in the past.

It was for this very reason that Sauron often kept the nine rings away from the Nazgûl whenever they left his presence. Despite the fact that they were more powerful with their rings, if they lost them to fools, or cowards, than that would weaken them in the long run, and there was also the possibility that the elves or men would learn about this feature of the rings.

As far as anyone was aware, the Nine were only nine kings, and that was that. If they knew that the rings had such power, they would be far more concerned and would begin working to counter such affects.

It was for that very reason that great figures like Isildur had come into his service. The soul of the one who had cut the One Ring from his finger, now resided within one of the Nazgûl. Such a horrifying reveal was best kept until the proper moment, so as to drive greater despair and horror into the hearts of men. For now, it was best they only knew of the Nazgûl as nine kings of men.

The newest of the Ringwraiths, this great giant lord was comprised of five different giants, including the original. He had been turned, and then, one by one, his captured brethren were forced to wear the ring, becoming corrupted and possessed by the one who had once led them.

The Orcs had named him Hokur Tiavan, or Iron Titan in the Black Speech. A name that he had long since accepted as he fell under Lilith's and Sauron's Control.

He often marched into battle, armed with a great machete, that held a notch near the end which allowed for two-handed slam attacks. The great giant fought in the manner of a berserker, and with his armor, weapon and the power of the one of the great rings, he was near unstoppable in battle.

Lilith had tested his might against two Graug at once. The giant beheaded one with his machete and crushed the other one's skull after forcing it to the ground.

His newest body had yet to vanish into the wraith world, yet in little more than a year, he would don the black cloak of the Nazgûl, and be fully one of them once more.

The giant was naturally fearless, the only ones he listened to were the Witch King, the Balrog, Sauron, and Lilith.

It was time now to unleash this great monster upon Westoros. The kingdoms of men would suffer before the newest of the Ringwraiths.

"It is time. You will lead a force south to join with my army. And I will have you lead the vanguard against our foes in the south. Prepare for the march, I expect your forces to join with mine, at the earliest opportunity." Aegon commanded, earning a haunting bellow from the great beast.

It dropped to a knee, and bowed before Aegon's command, earning a cruel smile from the Dark Lord in the process.

Within an hour, Aegon and Lilith were back on the Wall, the sun was beginning to rise over the horizon and bathe the land in golden light.

Lilith was greatly intrigued to look down upon the massive mounds of corpses Aegon's forces had collected outside of the camp where the Wildlings were being held, she looked to Aegon, curious as to why he hadn't had them raised as wights yet.

"Sixty thousand Wildlings perished in the attack. Thirty-six thousand remain alive. With so many so recently dead, I wanted to offer the killing fields to you. We could raise this army together, my dearest Queen, and use it to our benefit, or we could use all of the death and destruction for other purposes. I wished to consult with you before I made a choice on how to deal with them." Aegon explained earning a smirk from Lilith as she gazed out over the mounds of corpses.

Sixty thousand dead. Such would be a near unstoppable army of wights, that could easily wash over Westoros, and cause great damage to their foes in Arda.

Or such death could be harvested for drawing forth great evils into the world. Devils, demons, monsters of terrible wrath that would serve Lilith as they had done in the dark days before the Second Age.

This would definitely take some thought. Much could be done with the power of such death, bringing them all back as wights was a useful way about it, but it wasn't the only path.

"Oh what a wonderful gift. I do look forward to putting it to good use." Lilith hummed with amusement, earning a smirk from Aegon.

A short while later, Aegon, Lilith, and a small army of warchiefs stood before the King beyond the Wall, and his Wildling chieftains.

"I will have your answer now. Submit to my rule, or you will be broken." Aegon commanded.

"Your army has been butchering my people for decades. Now you stand there demanding our obedience. The Free Folk don't kneel. We are not Southron whores, or caged dogs. We're free. And we'll die free." Mance responded, earning many voices of agreement. There was little in the way of confidence behind these voices. Many of them seemingly showing a front, refusing to allow their terror to be their undoing.

They were fools. Fear danced across their faces. They were beaten and near broken. This act of defiance was a way of trying to preserve their culture, their way of life.

Aegon stared down at the tribal leaders, his gaze cool, and filled with disinterest.

"Very well, Mance Rayder. I gave you the chance to save your people. Let us see how long pride lasts, in the face of suffering." Aegon stated, motioning towards a nearby Oleg Warchief.

The warchief grinned viciously and stepped forward, approaching the Wildling troop.

They were set on the edge of the camp that housed all of the survivors, so the entirety of their people could hear what was about to happen.

"This is no longer a choice for you. You will bow, and it will either be willingly, or it will be by force." Aegon stated, as the Oleg motioned for some of his subordinates to drag a Wildling man from the crowd and pull him up in front of Mance and his company.

The man was thrown before the Oleg warchief, earning a vicious grin from the troll.

Quickly the warchief seized the man, one hand on his shoulder and the other on his forearm. With the rest of the Wildlings watching and listening the oleg began to twist the man's arm off.

His screams tore through the crowd, and continued for many minutes. Crunching, tearing, and twisting until finally the arm ripped free.

Those in the crowd cowered and turned away as they took in the horror.

The oleg grinned and tossed the arm to some nearby orcs who quickly began to devour it. He then placed his foot upon the man's chest and slowly pressed his weight down, crushing him over many long moments.

His death finally came as the oleg's weight collapsed the man's ribcage.

"Next!" The chieftain ordered, and another was dragged from the crowd, this one a woman. A man quickly rushed to her aid, trying to stop the orcs, he was quickly seized and forced to the ground by a large Uruk.

His begging began to fill the air as the terrified woman was thrown before the Oleg.

The Oleg quickly took her hands in his massive palms and lifted her into the air. While holding her aloft he began to crush her hands, causing her to shriek in agony.

"Anyone who submits, will be offered the chance to serve the Dark Lord! Everyone else, will die!" The Oleg roared into the woman's face, as the sound of her bones crunching filled the air, and seemed to spread deep into the crowd.

"My army… have fun with them… put the children in chains, and the rest you are free to torture. Do not stop until every last one of them is dead, or broken." Aegon commanded, his voice seemingly carrying out over his whole army, spreading to all of the people throughout the wildling encampment.

The look on the wildling chieftains' faces, as well as Mance Rayder, filled Aegon and Lilith with such malicious glee. It was obvious that they had not anticipated that Aegon would go through with his threat, nor did they anticipate that he was going to literally torture every single person, until the rest submitted.

"You can save them right now..." Aegon's voiced to the Wildling leaders.

Quickly screams began to spread out across the wildling camp as men and women were dragged away from the rest to be tortured slowly and painfully. Children were snatched from their parents and tossed into iron cages like animals.

It did not take long before men and women were throwing themselves to their knees, begging for mercy from their captors.

The Wildling leaders could see it, the spirit of their people breaking into pieces before their eyes. Hundreds were submitting in rapid succession, to spare themselves, to protect their children, for whatever reason, their pride didn't hold out for long.

"Alright! Please stop this!" One of the Wildling leaders came forth.

She looked to Aegon desperately, and slowly dropped to a knee. "Please. We are a proud people, and we're stubborn. But none of us want to die. Those of mine will follow you." She offered, desperate to stop what was happening.

"Proud and foolish. As I said before, I don't care about your people, or your culture. I wont allow the free folk to do as they please in the lands that I have conquered. You will submit or you will die. I will accept nothing less. I will accept your service, chieftess. But you are not their king. If your followers refuse to submit, they will suffer nonetheless." Aegon responded, earning a fearful look from the woman as she turned her gaze back towards the crowd of other wildling leaders.

"What are you waiting for?! He's going to torture us all and steal our babes. We fought and we lost, we have to survive now, however we can. Fuck our ancestors, fuck our traditions, none of it will matter if we're all dead!" The woman yelled at her companions, earning a sorrowful look from Mance, as many turned their gazes to him, looking for guidance.

"I warned you, that you would not get a better offer. This suffering is on each and every one of you. You could have saved them, saved your friends, your followers, your children. Every moment of indecision in more suffering for them. True leaders do not allow pride to destroy their people. Kneel, or you will be made to watch as every last member of your people are killed or enslaved, and before you die, you will know that it was all due to your weakness." Aegon said to them, his voice gentle, and filled with patience. He was so calm, stoic even, in the face of the chaos.

"Fuck it." A wildling chieftain swore as he dropped to a knee.

Mance could only let out a sigh and slowly nod, as members of his group began to drop to their knees.

Slowly, this continued until every last Wildling chieftain was on their knees, leaving only Mance Rayder left standing.

Aegon stared at the man for a long moment, and Mance stared back, eyeing each other man to man. A small smirk found it's way to Aegon's lips as he stepped forward, his image almost seeming to shift as he did.

Something about Aegon changed in that moment, despite remaining the same, he no longer appeared human. Like an aura, his presence expanded outward making the King beyond the Wall feel tiny, like an insect staring at a giant.

Aegon's shadow grew darker, almost seeming to come alive, as it spread out and up the Wall behind him, darkening the area and pushing back the light of day.

Mance dropped to his knees, shaking with terror, while Aegon released his grip on the man, and let out a chuckle.

"You've all made a very wise choice. I accept your submission, and hereby name you my subjects. From the New Gift to the Wall, those lands are now yours. As former king of your people, I grant you lordship over them. You will obey my laws, pay my taxes, and offer tribute when it is demanded. You will answer to the Lord on the Wall for the foreseeable future. This individual will ensure peace and security within your lands, as you establish yourselves. Go forward now, my newest subjects, and live in peace. Never forget this moment, and to whom you've knelt." Aegon commanded to the Wildlings.

A few moments of silence passed as Aegon stared down at them, finally he spoke again, "As your first offering of tribute, to show me your allegiance is valid I would demand four hundred of your best fighters to join my ranks. You have three days to assemble this force within Castle Black. See it done, Lord Rayder." Aegon ordered, before turning alongside Lilith as the two headed away, leaving the Wildlings to collect themselves, and recuperate from what just happened.

"See them let through the Wall. Have camps set up for them, and make sure they understand that I will not accept dissidence or desertion amongst my people. Those that flee from their duties will be hunted down and killed." Aegon ordered the Oleg warchief, earning a nod of understanding from the Troll.

Aegon and Lilith quickly headed back up to the top of the Wall, their sights now set on the South.

"So now we march south. This will be fun." Lilith noted with a smirk.

"We'll head for Winterfell first. If Robb Stark and the Northern armies are down south, we can easily take the castle, and an alliance with the acting Lord of Winterfell, which will most likely be Bran Stark. With the boy's cooperation we'll be able to seized the North and gain passage through the Neck without much difficulty. I have no doubt Robb will bend the knee to me, once he sees the might of the force at my back. With Robb's army, added to our own, we will begin our domination of the rest of Westoros." Aegon responded.

"Well then. While we wait for our forces to gather here, I'm going to begin working on a plan for all those souls. I can do a lot with sixty thousand dead men. And a wonderful idea is forming in my mind." Lilith offered.

"Oh?" Aegon inquired, turning his gaze towards her.

"You'll need to use the Resurrection Stone. I want to see if it's possible to recall our old friend Gothmog, back from the dead." Lilith responded, earning a devilish grin from Aegon.

Now that would be an ally worth having. The lord of the Balrog, alive again. Perhaps sixty thousand would be enough to call forth his soul from the abyss and allow him to reform. With the aid of the Resurrection Stone, well… they were just going to have to see.

For now, it was time to put the final pieces in place. The North would fall easily, but once it was taken, the true wars would begin. First Westoros, then Essos, and finally the entirety of the world. All would be swallowed by shadow, and fall under the dominion of Darkness.

**-To Be Continued-**

_**Here you guys go, I hope you all enjoy. Taking parts from lotr, hobbit, Lotro, Middle Earth: and Silmarillion. Let me know if you have any questions, or comments. Until next time!**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Alrighty, time for the next chapter, just one more time for clarifications purposes, this will be using a lot from Game of Thrones, but the timeline will be sped up, like in ASoIaF. So while the characters will still be aged up to what they were in Game of Thrones, the events will occur quicker, instead of the year by season timeline of Game of Thrones, and be closer to the speed of events in the books, which take place over three years, rather than eight.**_

_**Also I debated with myself on whether or not to split this chapter up, but I ended up not finding a good place to split it into two parts, so I've instead made it one epic chapter for you all to enjoy. I hope everyone is staying safe with this virus going around and I hope you all can get a bit of enjoyment out of this that'll hopefully lessen the boredom I know you are all enduring. Stay strong my friends, stay strong and we'll make it through this.**_

**Darkness Reborn**

Chapter 10: The Dragon's Descent

Benjen let out a scream of agony as his bones condensed and shaped, as he retook human form. He collapsed to his hands and knees, gasping and shaking as pain racked his body.

It felt like an eternity before the pain subsided, and when it did, Benjen Stark was left breathing heavily, sweating, and shivering. He felt hot breath brush his face, followed by wet licking and let out a grunt of annoyance.

"What the hell is happening to me…?" Benjen muttered as he lifted his gaze to look into the blood red eyes of Ghost.

The wolf had grown quite large since the first time Benjen had seen him. Almost a year and a half old now, and the pup was already about the size of a full grown wolf, and he was still growing by the day.

It had been nearly two weeks since the Wildlings had bent the knee to Aegon and sworn their allegiance to him. As promised they were let south of the Wall where large camps were built in the shadow of the towering structure. The Wildlings were kept under watch, and kept on a tight leash, though otherwise they had been given freedom to spread out and build homes and lives for themselves within the territory that Aegon had conquered.

By now his forces had fully captured the Wall, taking and manning every castle along it's northern face, as well as capturing the remaining members of the Night's Watch. The order was now extinct as every man with any sense could see that there was no chance of resisting the massive army that had gathered here.

Since then Aegon had sent his forces south to secure the Gift and the New Gift, bringing every town and village under his control and installing garrisons in or around these villages to keep the people in line, and orderly.

Aside from that, these last two weeks had been a grueling experience of waiting. More forces were marching south to join them and would arrive any day now. Aegon had started with over a hundred thousand in his army, but in his trek south he had left thousands behind at various points of interest to construct castles, and forts, plus those that he'd lost attacking the Wildlings, had left his total forces at nearly eighty thousand. Another ten thousand was marching on the Wall to join them in heading into the North.

Scouts had already been dispatched to gather information for them as word had reached them of raids by the Ironborn, all along the North's Western coast. If the North was under attack, Aegon intended to deal with these threats before moving further south.

While that was going on, Benjen was experiencing almost nightly transformations into his wolf form. What had once been almost nightly dreams of such transformations, was now a far more vivid and real experience than ever before.

He knew now that it wasn't a dream, it was something major happening to him. Something he didn't understand.

Looking down at his hands, dried blood had dyed them a rusty red.

"What's happening to me?" Benjen muttered once more.

"You've awakened your wolf blood." Came a familiar voice.

Benjen lifted his gaze to the surrounding forest finding Aegon standing not far away, watching him quietly.

"Jon? What are you doing here?" Benjen asked.

"I followed you when you left last night. Wanted to see what was wrong with you. To answer your question, it's your wolf blood activating. You're becoming a werewolf." Aegon informed him, stepping up to his uncle and squatting in front of him, placing a hand on Ghost's back as he did.

"A werewolf? What are you talking about?" Benjen asked in response.

"Stark's are descended from wolves. That isn't a saying, it's actually true. Lilith showed me the power in my blood. The power of dragon's blood, and wolf's blood. Within the blood of all Starks lies the power of Warging. We're skinchangers, we get it from the Children of the Forest. But we Starks also have the blood of werewolves in our veins. Just like Direwolves. See uncle, if you take the blood of a werewolf and put it in a human, you get another werewolf, but if you put that blood into a wolf, you get a direwolf. In essence, making us cousin species, descended from the same progenitor." Aegon explained as he scratched at Ghost's back.

"So you're a werewolf too?" Benjen asked.

"I am. Lilith told me her return would cause magic to come alive once more. And in that case, people with such gifts as ours would begin to experience them again. She showed me how to control the powers in my blood, I can show you too. Show you the power our family possesses." Aegon offered, extending a hand to his uncle and helping him to his feet.

"So… we can turn into wolves… that's what a werewolf is?" Benjen surmised, as that had been what was happening to him.

"At it's simplest yes. But werewolves are far more than just men who can shapeshift into wolves. Werewolves are stronger than men, faster and more agile too. You've probably noticed these things already. Our instincts are stronger, and our aggression as well. We become higher magical beings, and become immune to almost all forms of damage due to our regenerative abilities. In essence, we heal so quickly that almost nothing can harm us." Aegon explained to him, earning confusion from Benjen, which caused Aegon to smile.

"A werewolf is invulnerable to most types of damage. If I took a regular sword and stabbed you through the chest with it, it would hurt like hell, but it wouldn't kill you. Instead, a few moments after the blade was removed, the wound would be healed. A werewolf can fully regenerate any lost organs, and rapidly regrow bones. Our bones as well are far stronger, able to stop steel from cutting through." Aegon offered a more in-depth explanation which earned even more bewilderment from Benjen as he processed that.

"So a werewolf can't be killed?" Benjen surmised.

"They can. It's just very difficult. Magical weapons such as Valyrian Steel can cause magical injuries. These injuries take longer to heal which can mean death for the werewolf if a mortal wound is struck. A werewolf will die if it looses it's head. Given the strength of our bones, separating the head from the body is easier said than done. Fire is another way to kill a werewolf. You set it on fire, and that disables it's regenerative abilities, or I guess I should say, it forces the werewolf to regenerate from the flames, and thus will be open to any further wounds put upon it. One of the easiest ways to kill a werewolf is to set it on fire and then hack it to pieces. There's also silver. Werewolves have a blood allergy to silver. If we get any silver within our bodies it can cause an allergic reaction that disables our regenerative abilities, kind of like fire, but more permanent, so long as it remains in our bodies. Outside of those methods, killing a werewolf is extremely difficult, and werewolves age exceptionally slowly. Often times able to live for five or six hundred years on average." Aegon further explained to his uncle, earning dumbfounded amazement from the man. To imagine something that simply couldn't be killed unless by special means. That was a type of magic that was outside of most people's understanding.

The two spent the remainder of the night in the woods with Aegon explaining to Benjen more about being a werewolf and even showing him that he could transform. He offered to teach Benjen how to control it, and the former ranger agreed, not wanting to be a danger to others, or to lose control any longer.

After that, every night Aegon and Benjen would head out to the forest and practice shapeshifting into wolf form and learning to control their abilities.

Aegon made a good showing of being moderately skilled at these abilities to give the impression of a few months of extra practice, but he didn't have to hold back to much as Benjen learned how to harness the powers of his wolf blood.

Soon it wasn't long before the two, along with ghost were running through the forest at night, hunting to their hearts content. Benjen wasn't the only person that Aegon began to teach though. Maester Aemon, his great uncle, had Targaryen blood, and thus the blood of Great Dragons within his veins. These magics would make him very powerful indeed, and allow him access to incredible magical abilities.

At first the old man was one of the few people who chose to retain his vows. Even if the Night's Watch was gone, Aemon was still a Maester of the citadel, and while he accepted serving the new king, and his blood, he still held to his maester vows.

With Lilith's help, Aemon had his youth restored, an act of magic, that drew dumbfounded amazement from the wildlings, and the former brothers of the Night's Watch. Reversing his age wasn't overly difficult. Rituals could have been used for such things, though they were taxing on the body. A far easier method was to utilize something like the Elixir of Life, a potion constructed from a Philosopher's Stone. Lilith had once made her own stone after studying the works of Nicolas Flamel. She had lost her original stone when the Earth was destroyed, but here in Westoros she was able to make a new one during the centuries. With it, she could brew the Elixir of Life, and use it to easily and safely restore the living to their youth.

Due to the Great Dragon's blood within the old Targaryen, Lilith was in agreement that restoring the old man to his youth and training him in the ways of sorcery would make him a powerful servant indeed.

Aegon spoke with the old maester often, and waited for his opportunity, a moment, during their discussions when Aemon cursed his old age, for making him unable to even see his beloved Great-Great-Great nephew's face. Aegon offered to heal his sight and restore some of his youth which earned a playful scoff from the old man, though he didn't refuse. More likely he didn't believe such magics existed, so when offered the Elixir, he accepted it, thinking it no more than a comforting drink. He then went to sleep, and the next morning, guards and former brothers burst into his room when they heard the old man weeping.

What they found upon their arrival was not the withered form of a man over a century old. Instead they found a man in the prime of his life. No older than twenty-five or thirty. His worn grey hair was once again a radiant silver, his skin no longer sagged, the whites of his blind eyes gave way to a vibrant purple. He was the picture perfect embodiment of a Targaryen.

He had awoken to his sight returned, his body no longer ached as it once did. The world had seemed so heavy before, and yet now, it was as light as a feather. He had openly wept at the ability to see once more, and he further cried when Aegon stepped into the room, and he heard his voice.

The old maester held his face and stared at him, memorizing every line and feature. He then laughed, a Targaryen with wolf colors he called Aegon.

Many of the older members of the Night's Watch, like Benjen were deeply moved by seeing Aemon restored to his youth. They greatly respected and admired the old maester and to see him so wide-eyed and happy, raised their spirits.

Aemon spent the day meeting many of his former brothers, and took the time to learn their faces. He even took a trip to the top of the wall to stare out over the far north and the rest of Westoros in the south, taking in sights he hadn't seen in decades.

The old man nearly fell to his knees when he caught sight of Midir soaring high in the clouds. The titanic beast often earned reverence from those that spotted him, as he dipped out of the heavens, or slumbered upon the high hills.

Aemon had so many questions about Midir, why he looked so different from the stories of Valyrian dragons, and why he seemed to radiant.

Aegon took his time to explain to him why Midir wasn't like Valyrian dragons. Aegon explained to him that Midir was a 'Great' Dragon. Great dragons were far more powerful than normal dragons. They were smarter than men, and could speak a multitude of languages. They had access to magical spells, and hypnotic powers. A Great dragon was akin to dragon royalty, as lesser dragons would often follow and nest around Great dragons. Midir was also ancient, having been created by Lilith when she was around eighty years old. Tens of thousands of years had passed since then. Truly this great beast was unlike anything seen in nature.

Soon Aemon's interest turned towards the orcs, uruks, olegs, and other various beasts. As a maester he was interested in learning and expanding his knowledge and Aegon was happy to indulge him, his aim to draw the old maester further and further into the grips of sorcery and dark magic.

After a week or two more The Iron Titan arrived with his army to join up with the Lord and Lady of Darkness upon the Wall.

The night of his arrival, thousands gathered upon the Wall to watch as Aegon and Lilith began the ritual to summon forth the deceased Balrog from death.

Wildlings, former members of the Night's Watch, Benjen, and even Aemon stood atop the Wall staring down as the surrounding orcs began to chant.

Roars began to rise as a feeling of dread surged through the air, and the dark of night seemed to grow even darker.

"What's happening?" Samwell Tarly inquired.

"Who the fuck knows." Grenn replied with a shake of his head.

"Some sort of magical ritual." Aemon noted as his eyes scanned the fields of dead.

While Aegon sat before the sea of corpses, the Resurrection Stone cradled in his hands, drawing forth the spirit of the fallen Ainur, Gothmog. Before the sight of thousands, a shadow began to rise over the field of dead bodies.

A great and terrible shadow, an aura of blackness that made even those looking down from atop the Wall feel small and insignificant.

The orcish chants grew louder as the shadow grew, and upon it's manifestation, Lilith commenced with the ritual.

With her staff held before her, words began to dance from her lips. Spells in an ancient and forgotten language filled the air, passing even through the winds and carrying up to the observers. Black and green wisps of energy began to flow out from her body, dancing out into the field of the dead.

Gasps of fear, and terror went out as the corpses of the fallen Wildlings suddenly began to rise to their feat, lifting from the ground in inhuman ways, twisting and stretching as they stood upright.

Their eyes glowed a sickening bluish-green and it caused many of the observers to shrink back in terror.

Lilith's voice grew in intensity, her spells becoming more foul and twisted. One by one the corpses began to erupt into ash. It began with a few at first, but then, suddenly, thousands of bodies were erupting creating a storm of ash that flowed into the shadow that stood amongst it all.

This continued for several long moments, as haunting wails and orcish chants filled the air. Suddenly, and without warning, the gathering cloud of ash and shadow burst into flames and formed into a nightmarish abomination, not seen for thousands of years.

An unearthly bellow of rage tore through the air as a titan of fire and shadow was reborn into this world.

"Gods..." Samwell muttered fearfully.

"What in fuck is that?" Edd growled out.

"A demon." Aemon muttered, his eyes wide in awe of the flaming beast.

Lilith let out a sigh as her the spells died on her lips and she focused her eyes onto the towering Balrog before her.

The souls and bodies of tens of thousands, to resurrect one of her greatest champions. A fair trade. Of course these souls and bodies weren't enough, it was also the fear, and despair that Aegon had instilled in them as he hunted them across the Far North that aided in this ritual. Had they simply fought and died valiantly like a great army of men, such a ritual would never have worked. Instead they were terrified and they died afraid, and hopeless. Full of despair.

"**My master… it is you! I felt the call of Sauron, guiding me back to the living realm, but it was unfamiliar, distant. Yet I find you and he here, waiting." **The Balrog spoke as it towered over the two.

"Hello, old friend. It has been to long." Lilith greeted with a smile, earning a bow from the Balrog in return.

"Gothmog, you have returned to us. Now the Balrog stand as three." Aegon hummed, earning a nod of agreement from Lilith.

"Yes. I have called you back to my side, and you did not hesitate to come. It has been long since you fell in battle, during the fall of Gondolin. I have much to tell you, my old friend." Lilith offered to him, earning a growl of acceptance from the mighty being.

That day marked a turning point for the men who had recently entered into their service.

The trolls, Fellbeasts, spiders, and the Dragon Midir, were offerings that quelled many a man into service, yet the sudden appearance of the mighty Gothmog, destroyed any thoughts of rebellion. With his appearance men fell over themselves to serve to the upmost of their abilities, fear, terror, and awe, guiding their actions.

Aemon and Benjen questioned Aegon about what they had seen, about what Gothmog was, Aegon offered to them that the Balrog were servants of Lilith, fire spirits that helped shape the world. By his admission, the Balrog could be easily recognized as a god in living form. Such a prospect dumbfounded both men, but Aegon further shocked them by revealing that according to Lilith, a Balrog had unleashed the Doom upon Valyria, when the Valyrians had mined to greedily into the Earth, and awakened it from it's slumber.

When asked why such godly creatures would serve Lilith, Aegon postulated that they saw in her, the same things that he did, an indomitable will, and a power beyond the so-called gods of their world. He also expressed to the two of them that this was the power of their blood, the strength of wolves and dragons, could be used for such great and terrible rituals.

It was the sight of this that confirmed in both of their minds, that Aegon had been correct in his assumption that there was no fighting her. If she could command a beast such as a Balrog, something strong enough to bring about the Doom of Valyria, then the only hope for the people of Westoros was to submit to her, before she turned her wrath upon them.

Fear and awe of her might, and Aegon's quickly spread through the ranks as word passed through of the sorceress who wielded gods and dragons as her weapons.

Early the next morning, Mance Rayder appeared before the king, to make his offer of tribute.

"Four hundred?" Aegon reiterated, as he passed his gaze over the troop of wildlings standing before him.

"Yes. Four hundred of the best killers, hunters, and bloodletters, from among my people. Led by Tormund Gaintsbane." Mance offered.

Aegon gazed at the collection of men and women. There was fear in their eyes, an unease that seemed to permeate their troop. They were afraid of him.

Finally, Aegon's eyes drifted to their leader. A tall, bulky wildling, with fiery orange hair, and a long beard to match. His gaze was heavy and hard, and he stood before his troop, more confidant and less fearful than the rest. Aegon locked eyes with the man who stared back, unflinchingly.

"Tormund Giantsbane… as the warchief of the wildlings under my command there are a few things we need to clarify. First, you and your band will follow orders. Second, unless otherwise stated, any and all loot gained from pillaging, is yours to keep, and either use for yourselves or return to your people. Third and finally, any and all newcomers that join with your ranks are to be reported, so that we can maintain an accurate count of our forces. I don't care if you pillage, raid, rape, kidnap, or murder on my campaign, but you will follow my orders, attack only those I deep our enemies. For those I name foe, treat them in whatever manner you deem fit, and only for so long as I deem them foes. I aim to conquer this land, and thus our enemies will eventually be my subjects. Do you understand?" Aegon commanded.

"You want us to help you kill your enemies and take their castles and lands for your own. Seems simple enough." Tormund responded with a shrug, earning a look from Mance.

"Good. Than welcome aboard. Join your forces with my army and prepare to move. You and your people are excellent hunters, scouts, and you're fast on your feet. I'll have you working in the vanguard of my army, where your skills will be the most useful." Aegon commanded, earning a hard nod of understanding from Tormund.

"The Gift and the New Gift are now under your authority Mance Rayder. Until you establish yourselves, I will offer you leniency in the area of taxes and further tribute. This grace period will last for ten years. Upon it's completion I expect your people to be able to pay tribute or taxes to the crown." Aegon stated, turning his gaze back to Mance Rayder.

"And what form would these taxes or tribute take?" Mance asked in response.

"Whatever your people have in abundance, that will not break them in payment. I intend to establish a realm of order, free of chaos. To help in that regard, my people must know a degree of prosperity. So I will only demand that which they can afford to give. Be it furs, food, ores, money, or even men. You will find a way to contribute to the realm. Once I've earned the allegiance of the north I will work with the Starks to open trade between your two peoples. As I said, you have ten years to situate yourselves and settle into your new homes. Until such a time, Chieftain Urs-Rethog, will oversee the protection of these territories from any southern invasions. Once your people are established, I will allow you to officially name a lord of the Gifts, who will stand as your leader and representative in matters of state. You have ten years to work it all out, so try not to waste time." Mance nodded at that, as Aegon moved away, leaving the wildlings to carry out his commands.

After leaving, Aegon made his way to the top of the Wall where he found Lilith staring out across the northern expanse. As he approached her, he noted that it was odd of her to be looking North. Lilith was ambitious by nature, she tended to always keep her goals in sight, almost literally in some cases. It fit her character far better to be staring south, while she brooded or plotted.

Aegon had known her for so long that any action that fell out of character stood out to him. Every since he had returned to her side under the guise of Mairon, he had always kept a close eye on her actions.

He stepped up next to her and allowed his gaze to fall on the northern expanse, nothing seemed to stand out to him, nothing that would force his sister to make it the focal point of her gaze. The mysteries of this land, while intriguing would soon be unveiled as their armies came to dominate the land. Ancient histories, long quiet magics, and all sorts of secrets, long since lost to myth would be uncovered now that they had claimed the Far North.

Still, he did not see what could have caught her attention.

"You seem to be deep in thought?" Aegon noted aloud.

"Yes." Lilith responded, her voice light, and soft, in the bitterly cold northern air. Another oddity that Aegon quickly noted, the air was cold, and the chill of the wind tried to push through the heat of his presence to nip at his skin. As a lord of fire and shadow, he had always run hotter than normal. The warmth of his presence often feeling like a freshly lit flame, even when he was calm and passive. Despite this, the heat of Lilith's presence always overwhelmed his own. When she was awake, standing next to her, or before her could feel like standing next to a pyre, and when she grew impassioned, such heat could easily blister the skin of those close to her, and that spoke nothing of her rage.

When she slept though, her aura grew quiet, and cold, like the darkness that filled her heart. So he was accustomed to the absence of her flame when she slept, yet here she stood, awake with the world so cold around her. So cold in fact, that Aegon could begin to feel the chill pressing into him. If he didn't have such magical defenses, this chill would have easily repelled anyone who came near.

"You're cold." Aegon stated, addressing his concern.

Lilith continued to stare off for a moment before turning her gaze to him, as her eyes found there way to his he caught sight of something strange. When calm her eyes would match how they had looked in her first life, a vibrant and sometimes blazing emerald green, similar to how Aegon's looked when he grew passionate. Normally though her eyes were alight like flames. A blazing orange, or a hellish red, depending on her mood. Now though her eyes were orange and glowed like a fire burned within them, and yet, around the pupils, was a ring of blue. And the blue was noticeably visible to his gaze. It truth her eyes actually looked like a lip gas burner. Blue around the pupils and orange at the edges.

He had never seen her eyes look like that before. Her eyes had never been blue, not even as Melkor.

"Lilith… your eyes, there are blue rings around the pupils." Aegon stated, with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"Truly?" Lilith hummed quietly, as her gaze darted away from him for a moment before returning. When they did, he saw the orange overtake the blue, returning her coloring to something familiar.

"Is something wrong?" Aegon asked.

"Wrong? No. It's just… something I've been feeling lately. Ever since we left Tantibus Arcis. I've felt this echo, like something is trying to reach out to me. It's strange. It's like I can feel it's call coming from the Far North, and yet, it echos from far away. Almost like someone shouting through a tube. Their voice comes out of one end, but that isn't where they are." Lilith replied, turning her gaze back to the far North.

"Do you believe this to be a problem worth looking into?" Aegon inquired.

"Not yet. I've yet to truly grasp what it is that is calling to me. It's whispers are unintelligible, and yet, I feel they have great meaning. There is power behind them, yet I cannot tell how great. For now though, we should keep our minds focused on the task at hand. This world will fall to us, and once it does, we will pilfer it's secrets and it's treasures in preparation for our return to Arda." Lilith responded as she tore her gaze away from the North and began to walk towards the lift.

Aegon stared after her, his gaze questioning and filled with uncertainty.

Lilith outwardly appeared not overly concerned and yet, the change in her eyes and the cold feeling of her aura, these were physical changes. He would have to keep a close eye on her, and on this unique development. Perhaps some time away from the Far North would do her some good.

At least, Aegon could hope for such a reprieve.

Not long after, their army began moving south. Eight thousand were left on the Wall along with about five hundred wildlings, while the rest of the wildlings spread out over the expanse of the Gift and the New Gift.

Aegon's army along with the remaining Nazgûl, Gothmog, and the Iron Titan, descended on the South. A massive army of over eighty thousand descended down the King's Road towards Winterfell.

Few if any guards even dared to approach the massive force until they reached Last Hearth, the home of the Karstarks.

A few guardsmen from house Karstark rode up to the army, led by Aegon and Lilith to inquire as to who they were.

Aegon answered them, telling them that he was Aegon Targaryen, and he had come to retake his throne. To emphasize his point, Midir fell out of the clouds and let out a roar that shook the earth and sent the three guards scrambling back to Last Hearth where they proceeded to cower behind their walls as the massive army passed them by.

This was the way of it, as the army moved further and further south. Anyone who spotted the massive force, quickly hid in their homes and prayed that it would pass by without incident.

Soon they were arriving at Winterfell, scouts sent ahead reported back something very interesting to Aegon and Lilith.

The banner of house Greyjoy soared above Winterfell.

"That's not possible." Benjen noted with a shake of his head.

"The Scouts were certain. It's the banner of house Greyjoy. The Stark Banner has been stripped from the castle, indicating that it is under Greyjoy control." Aegon responded, earning a frustrated sigh from Benjen.

Nearby Lilith sat, quietly observing as they discussed what to do with this new information.

"There's no way the Greyjoys could have amassed a force large enough to have overtaken the castle. They must have snuck in somehow, that's the only reasonable explanation." Benjen insisted.

"I agree uncle. Our scouts didn't spot more than a few guards atop the walls. Maybe ten at most. I have no doubt that this was an act of infiltration. We will retake the castle, and free those held prisoner within." Aegon placated him, earning a nod from Benjen.

"It's odd that the Ironborn would be so far inland, your grace. Deepwood Motte is far closer to the sea, Torrhen's Square has access to the ocean via river, same with Barrowtown. All of these places would be far easier targets for the Ironborn to harass. Winterfell is a bold choice, even if it is undermanned." Aemon noted, drawing Aegon's attention to him.

"You're right. Winterfell is bold. Far to bold for even the Ironborn. Perhaps Balon wished to send a message. Target the Starks at their home. We'll see when we arrive." Aegon agreed, turning his gaze towards where Lilith sat watching them.

She stared back, but said nothing, curiosity danced in her gaze, as she waited for him to decide how to proceed.

Aegon turned thoughtful at that and paced in thought around the tent for a few quiet seconds before stopping before the Witch King.

"Prepare a vanguard of spider riders. When we arrive at Winterfell we'll send them over the walls of the castle and overwhelm those within. Can't be more than a hundred Ironborn or so within. A lightning strike will service us in taking the castle with ease." Aegon ordered, earning a bow from the wraith as it immediately departed to carry out his commands.

"Order the army to prepare to march. We'll arrive at Winterfell in less than a day." Aegon ordered the remainder of his generals.

"My lord." A newly arrived orc, dropped to a knee upon entering the tent.

"What news?" Aegon inquired.

"Our scouts have located a company of northmen marching on the castle. They'll arrive there around the same time as us. About six hundred or so." The scout explained.

"Then let us meet them, and allow them the opportunity to join us in reclaiming Winterfell." Aegon ordered, earning a bow from the scout.

The following day, Aegon met in parlay with the leader of the northern army marching on Winterfell. This army was comprised of Bolton men from the Dreadfort. Their leader, Roose Bolton's bastard son, Ramsay.

Aegon sent his generals ahead of him to meet with Ramsay Snow, and Aegon soon arrived upon the back of his Fellbeast. Lilith remained behind, and continued onward with their host, closing the distance on Winterfell.

Aegon's arrival drew dumbstruck awe from the Bolton men, and their leader Ramsay was equally unnerved by the sight of the orc, uruk, and oleg warchiefs, as well as Aegon and his mount. The only humans present were the commander of the Wildlings, Tormund Giantsbane, Aemon Targaryen, and Benjen Stark.

Aegon remained atop the beast as he stared down at the Bolton men.

"Well met, countrymen." Aegon offered in greeting to them.

"Your accent marks you a northman." Ramsay replied cautiously, his eyes flickering from Aegon to his Fellbeast.

"That's because he is. You stand before Aegon, of houses Targaryen and Stark. Son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark." Benjen informed them.

"Targaryen?" Ramsay muttered in surprise.

"Aye. I was raised by lord Eddard Stark as his bastard son. You may have heard of me by the name he used to hide me. Jon Snow. Lord Eddard lied about my identity to keep me safe from the Baratheons and the Lannisters. He did not wish for me to meet the same fate as my brother and sister." Aegon stated, his gaze cool, yet piercing.

I'm assuming your here for the same reasons we are?" Ramsay noted after a moment of collecting his composure.

"We intend to retake the castle in the name of house Stark. Once that is done, I plan on reinstating one of the Stark children as lord, if they remain alive, and I will purge the Ironborn from these lands, and move south to join my cousin Robb." Aegon stated, his eyes locking with Ramsay's, and seemingly piercing into his very soul.

A small smile touched at Aegon's lips as he peered into the heart of the bastard sitting before him. This Ramsay Snow was as twisted and vile a man as he had ever seen. Such a cruel and heartless creature would be valuable if he proved to have the wits and cunning to match the vile filth of his heart.

"March with us, and I will see you and your men greatly rewarded, and I will pass on your deeds to Robb Stark himself." Aegon offered.

Ramsay was silent for a moment as his eyes flickered from Aegon to the warchiefs at his side, and than to the Fellbeast once more, before finally returning to Aegon. He let out a light chuckle and grinned, "Well you've convinced me. I see no reason why we shouldn't work together. My father has ordered me to retake the castle from the Ironborn, with us both working together, I see this as going much smoother. How many men er- beasts, do you have?"

"In total? Over eighty thousand." Aegon responded with a smirk, causing Ramsay's jaw to drop open, those by his side were equal in their surprise.

"Come. Let us see this done. Winterfell is within sight." Aegon ordered, taking flight and returning to his forces.

Within an hour the attack had begun. A thousand spider riders surrounded the castle and attacked it from all sides. They scaled the walls with ease and were able to cross the bridges connecting the outer walls to the inner ones, before the Ironborn could remove them. As Aegon suspected there wasn't more then about a hundred Ironborn within the castle, and they never saw the attack coming. By the time they saw Aegon's force cresting over the hills, marching towards them, the spiders were already closing in on the walls.

Despite their skill in battle, nothing can prepare a man, not in-the-know, for the agility of a spider charge. They scaled the outer wall with impossible ease, cresting it in seconds, the goblins upon their backs were armed with spears, javelins, and bows.

Aegon's army didn't even need to exit marching formation. By the time they made it to the castle walls, the gates were already opening.

Inside the surviving Ironborn were held on their knees before the great keep, among them, Theon Greyjoy.

The Ironborn watched, dumbfounded and terrified as they were surrounded by snarling orcs, growling wargs, towering olegs, and vengeful northmen. They could only watch as Midir soared over the castle, letting out a world shaking bellow. Theon himself stared in amazement as Aegon landed and dismounted from his fellbeast, and slowly approached them.

"I guess that answers why they came here." Aegon hummed as he locked eyes with Theon, who stared back in disbelief.

"Jon?" Theon muttered.

"No. Aegon Targaryen." Aegon replied as he stepped up to the kneeling Ironborn.

"Greyjoy! You did this!?" Came the snarl from Benjen as soon as he dismounted his horse.

More fear flickered in Theon's eyes as he spotted Benjen approaching him.

Aegon held up a hand to halt his uncle's advance, knowing full well Benjen wanted to rip Theon limb from limb.

"Theon… look at me." Aegon ordered as he knelt in front of Theon. "Where are the Starks?"

Theon's eyes passed back to him, and he began to shake.

"Gone. Vanished. They were my prisoners… but then they disappeared." Theon replied shakily.

"Liar! You murdered them, burned them!" Came the shout from Maester Luwin as he was escorted into the courtyard by the orcs.

Hearing that, Benjen had to be physically retrained by two uruks to stop him from advancing and literally beating Theon to death with his own lungs.

"No! I didn't! They were farmers boys. Orphans. I couldn't find Bran or Rickon. It wasn't them. It wasn't them I swear!" Theon cried out in fear.

Aegon was silent for a moment as he closed his eyes and let out a sigh. He then rose to his feet and turned to a nearby warchief. "Find them." He ordered, plainly and simply. With a quick nod the warchief turned and began to coral some orcs to form a hunting party.

"Take Theon to the dungeons, as for the rest of the Ironborn, have them drawn and quartered." Aegon commanded earning vicious cheers from both the orc and the northmen, while the Ironborn let out cries begging for mercy as they were dragged away.

Theon was little more than a terrified mess as he was carried off by several uruks.

Aegon slowly turned his attention to Maester Luwin who stared back, and offered Aegon a curious yet grateful nod.

"Maester Luwin, my army has taken the Wall and freed all men of the Night's Watch from their vows. Until Bran and Rickon are found, Benjen Stark is acting Lord of Winterfell, until Robb returns." Aegon explained to him, earning a nod of agreement from the man as he turned towards Benjen.

Benjen was quiet for a moment, indecision dancing in his eyes. Being Lord of Winterfell was never something he wanted, but the Starks had a saying, 'there must always be a Stark in Winterfell.' until the boys were found, or Robb returned, he was that Stark.

"Maester Luwin, I leave the running of the castle in King Aegon's hands for the moment." Benjen ordered, before turning to Aegon, "With your leave, your grace, I would like to go and look for my nephews."

Aegon offered him a nod at that, and Benjen quickly departed to go and join with the hunting party.

Aegon then turned his gaze towards where Ramsay Bolton and Tormund Giantsbane stood, not far off.

"If either of you brought along any skilled trackers, their assistance in finding the Stark children could be invaluable." Aegon expressed, earning nods of agreement from both men.

"Come Maester Luwin, I'm sure you have much to tell me about the recent happenings during my time away." Aegon ordered the old man.

The remainder of that day was spent tearing down the Greyjoy banners and manning the castle. Maester Luwin spent the day explaining to Aegon, everything that had happened since he'd left.

Aegon, and Lilith sat quietly as the Maester explained how an assassin tried to kill Bran with a Valyrian Steel dagger, after Aegon's departure. He explained how Catelyn had found a long blonde hair in the tower Bran had fallen from, leading her to believe it was a Lannister who'd pushed Bran from said tower. Catelyn then went south, to get information and on her way back, she arrested Tyrion Lannister and brought him to the Vale of Arryn. While there, Tyrion won a trial by combat and was freed, but in response to the arrest, Ser Jaime attacked Ned in the streets of King's Landing before fleeing the capitol. Not long afterwards, Robert Baratheon died from an injury sustained during a boar hunt, and Ned Stark was arrested, presumably for treason against the new king Joffrey. Robb called the banners and marched south to free Ned but they didn't make it in time, and Ned was executed. Robb was named King in the North, and now the North and the Riverlands were in open rebellion. Word had it, that Renly Baratheon had been murdered, and Stannis had launched an attack on King's Landing which ended in failure. News of that attack had just reached them, only a few days prior. Now Robb was in the south fighting against the Lannisters, and doing very well on that account, as he hadn't yet lost a battle.

Upon completion of his explanation, Aegon brought the old maester up to speed on the newest changes in the far north. How he had agreed to marry the Queen in the Far North, and now led her army to take Westoros and reclaim his birthright.

Before the sun went down, Bran and Rickon were found, luckily enough by Benjen, who decided to visit the crypts before departing with the hunting party. The boys were found down there, alongside Hodor, and they were being cared for by a Wildling woman, who had been captured some time after Aegon had left Winterfell.

Now Aegon sat with Benjen, Bran and Rickon, having explained to the two boys that he was in-fact their cousin, not their brother, and that he was a Targaryen.

While Rickon didn't fully understand, Bran could only nod in acceptance of it, with Benjen backing up his claim, he had no reason not to.

"Can we still call you Jon, even when you become king?" Rickon inquired, earning a smile from Aegon.

"Yes. You both can call me Jon, if you like. We may be cousins by blood, but Lord Eddard raised us as brothers. Brothers look out for each other." Aegon answered.

"So what happens now? If Robb is king in the North?" Bran inquired, earning a curious look from Benjen as well.

"Lilith will not stop until all of Westoros is under her command. My Targaryen heritage makes me valuable to her. I have to go south and convince Robb to bend the knee to me. I'm hoping once he sees my army, and hears of how we retook Winterfell and drove out the Ironborn, he'll accept it, as will the northern lords." Aegon responded, doing his best to express the idea that he was all that stood between them and the army that he commanded. Without Aegon leading them, this same army that had liberated the castle, would be attacking it right now.

"Just like Torrhen Stark, the King-who-Knelt." Bran noted, earning a smile from Benjen and Aegon.

"You've been paying close attention to Maester Luwin's lessons." Aegon noted.

"What'll happen to Theon?" Bran asked after a moment of silence.

"I'll take him south with me. Present him to Robb. Perhaps he can still serve as a useful hostage in dealing with the Ironborn. With that in mind though, he is a traitor. You know what happens to traitors." Aegon replied coolly, earning a quiet nod from Bran, who seemed conflicted on it.

"Until then though, Lord Stark, we have a kingdom to secure." Aegon finished, departing from the chamber.

That night a message was dispatched by a trusted rider, south to be delivered to Robb, to ensure that it didn't fall into enemy hands. In the days that followed Aegon dispatched some of his forces into the west, to push back the attacking Ironborn. Bran sent word to all the surrounding lords and ladies that the army that carried the banner of the dragon, the wolf, and the eye, were friends of house Stark, and allies of the North.

Theon was interrogated and out of curiosity towards the truer nature of the man, Aegon asked that Ramsay Snow be allowed to handle his questioning. The bastard accepted the position claiming it to be an honor, though Aegon payed close attention to his methods. Being in Winterfell, Ramsay couldn't employ his more gruesome tricks, so he primarily used psychological torment, having himself appearing as little more than a servant to one of his men, who acted as the real interrogator. He dug his way into Theon's confidence by sneaking into his cell late at night and offering him food or drink, claiming to be Ironborn as well.

From one side, he pressed Theon for information, and from the other, he tried to build a rapport with the Greyjoy heir.

He reported daily to Aegon on his actions, and Aegon did little to hide his approval of such methods, he was quickly learning that Ramsay Snow would be a powerful tool, if unleashed properly.

It helped that Theon didn't notice Ramsay when he had first been captured, to focused on Benjen, and Aegon, and the various beasts that accompanied them.

While the Ironborn were being pushed back, and they awaited Robb's reply, Aegon turned his attention to Bran. He took his time to study the young boy, and his various dreams, and quickly deduced that the boy was a green-seer and had the power of skin-changing. This made him a useful tool to have. One day, about a week after they had arrived in Winterfell, Benjen asked if it was possible to heal Bran's legs. If Aegon had learned of any spells, or if he could ask Lilith, surely if they could restore Maester Aemon to his youth, than they could heal Bran's legs.

Aegon offered to look into it, admitting that the healing of Maester Aemon came from returning his youth to him. It wasn't true healing. With that being said, he was certain it could be done.

A day later, Lilith herself appeared and offered Bran his mobility back. While Aegon could have done it himself, he saw this as a perfect opportunity to endear his 'Queen' to the Starks by restoring Bran's mobility. Such an act would make her appear less of the distant loner that she appeared since arriving. Lilith often kept to herself when not commanding. It was how she always was. If she wasn't actively working, she didn't like to be around people she didn't trust. Work kept her focused. Boredom left her vulnerable, and she didn't like being vulnerable around strangers.

Bran accepted her offer, not nearly as weary of magic as many of the older generation.

Aegon, Benjen, Maester Aemon, and Maester Luwin, all stood watch as Bran was placed into a dreamless sleep by Lilith. He was then placed on his belly and Lilith stood over him, drawing her wand and running it along his spine. The end of the wand glowed dimly, earning amazement from the three men, while Aegon stood opposite of Lilith, watching her intently as she worked her magic.

Lilith silently went about her work, using her magic to analyze the damage. Once she knew for certain what was wrong, she set about repairing the injuries. Silence permeated the room as the glow of Lilith's wand changed colors as she went about her spells.

It was Maester Aemon who approached Aegon's side and asked for an explanation.

"The first spell she used was a diagnostic spell. It allows a healer to view the damage done to the individual the spell is used on. Right now she is undoing the scars left over from what has healed on it's own. The body can't really heal such injuries correctly without assistance, so what it has done will have to be undone. Once she removes unnecessary tissue, she can begin repairing the rest of the damage." Aegon quietly explained.

"And she can do all of this without opening him up?" Aemon inquired.

"Yes. It's all happening within his body. The diagnostic spell she used is still active so she knows whats happening within him, without needing to look at it. The nature of the spell is difficult to explain, but it's almost like she can sense what's happening by using it." Aegon offered, earning a nod from the man as he shared a glimpse with his fellow maester whom nodded back in response.

The room remained silent for another few moments as Lilith continued her work.

"Maester Aemon, please step over to my side. I need the two of you to hold his legs still. I'm going to repair the damaged nerves, the shock of it may cause his body, more specifically his legs to jolt, which could cause further damage before I am done." Lilith stated.

Aemon was quick to circle the table, and do as he was bid. Aegon followed suite, both holding down Bran's legs. Both could feel as his muscles suddenly flexed and his legs jolted. His feet began to twitch and tense as Lilith restored his mobility.

Aegon smiled at this, sharing a glance with his grand-uncle whom also smiled. The twitching continued for a few moments before stopping as Lilith finished her work and holstered her wand.

"The damage is healed. His mobility has been restored. He hasn't walked in a while so his muscles will have atrophied, and he may be off balance for a bit. It should all come back to him in short order." Lilith explained as she undid her spell that kept him asleep.

"He should awaken in short order." Lilith stated as she turned and departed. As she passed Benjen and Luwin both offered her thanks, she simply nodded to them but continued on.

Bran was placed on his back, and as Lilith said, a few moments later he awoke. The whole operation took about an hour.

The first thing Bran did when he woke up was wiggle his toes. His eyes lit up as he moved his legs about.

Within an hour he was up and walking, though he needed support from Maester Luwin. The boy wore a big smile from that point onward and spent almost all of his time on his feet. He was eternally grateful to Lilith and from that point onward graciously referred to her as a friend of the North and a great and kind woman.

While Bran recovered, far to the south, Robb Stark had just received a message in the night. A rider of the north who had ridden so hard his horse had nearly died.

Robb sat with his bannermen, his mother, uncle, granduncle, and his queen, Jeyne Westerling. He had retreated to Rivverun after losing most of his forces due to recent events. His marriage to Jeyne had lost him the support of the Freys whom he had promised to marry a daughter of. And his recent execution of Rickard Karstark had lost him the support of the Karstarks.

He was in a desperate position now. He'd won every battle, but he was losing this war.

"You claim to come from Winterfell?" Robb asked the rider.

"Yes, your grace. I was sent on behalf of your brother, Lord Bran." The rider responded, earning surprise from the collection of Lords.

"Bran is dead. Killed by the traitor, Theon Greyjoy." Robb responded.

"He's not dead your grace, I've seen him with my own two eyes. Two farmers boys, the Greyjoy had killed. Claiming them to be your brothers. The boys were hidden, by a wildling woman." The messenger informed him.

Catelyn burst into tears at that, hugging her brother Edmure, while Robb received a hug from his wife.

"Osha. I'll see her rewarded beyond her wildest dreams for this." Robb replied, as many of his surrounding advisers cheered their agreement.

"I thank you for this message. What other news from Winterfell?" Robb asked after a moment passed.

"Jon Snow has made an alliance with the Queen of the far North. He has led her armies in seizing the Far North, the Wall, the Gift, and the New Gift. He marched a force down to Winterfell and met with the Bolton's gathered under Ramsay Snow, and they took it back from the Greyjoys. Prince Theon is his prisoner now. He sent part of his army into the west to throw the Ironborn back into the sea. Lord Bran asked that I deliver this message to you, Jon Snow is ready to march his army south to aid you in defeating the Lannisters. He's sent most of them to Moat Cailin, and awaits your reply. He wishes for you to return there, join forces with him so that you may return south together and bring an end to this." The Messenger explained, earning dumbstruck looks from those around him.

"Who's the Queen in the far North?" Jeyne inquired, curiously, having never heard of such a person. Robb shook his head, not knowing.

"My brother took the Wall, and the Far North?" Robb repeated, earning a nod from the messenger.

"Yes your grace. His army comprises of these monstrous men. Strange twisted creatures, vicious and cunning. An army of wolves, and spiders, and giants. He even has dragons at his command. I've seen them, your grace. They say the Far-Northern Queen is a sorceress of great power. That she's been around for centuries and holds dominion over Fire, Shadow, and Winter. Jon Snow led the vanguard of her army to smash the Wildlings against the Wall. Afterwards he led them past it, and abolished the order of the Night's Watch, freeing all men of their oaths. He granted the Gift and the New Gift to the Wildlings that bent the knee to his new Queen." The Messenger informed him, causing the room to go dead silent.

"How many men does he have?" Robb asked pinning the messenger with a focused look.

"He sent thousands towards the western coast, and intended for three thousand to garrison in and around Winterfell, to keep it safe. The forces he sent to Moat Cailin number at least fifty thousand." The messenger answered, causing Robb's jaw to fall open, and many others followed in kind.

"Fifty thousand you say?" Robb repeated.

"How good is your eyesight?" The Blackfish inquired, not truly believing such a number could possibly be the truth.

"Good enough to know, my lord. Fifty thousand, at least. These vicious creatures, men, wildlings, spiders, wolves, big cats, giants, and more." The Messenger answered, taking in a deep breath as he finished.

"Is there something more?" Robb inquired, taking note of the messenger's actions.

"I don't know if it's the truth or not. Only a rumor I heard before I left, and perhaps I shouldn't say." He began.

"We'll you've already hit us with a gut punch, what could be worse?" The Blackfish inquired.

"Your brother, Jon Snow. His men… they were calling him the Dragonwolf. Aegon Targaryen. I heard a few whispers from some of the servants in Winterfell before I departed. They say that lord Eddard hid Rhaegar Targaryen's son as his bastard. That he's the true born son of the last dragon, and the wild wolf, Lyanna Stark. I don't know if any of it's true but… it's what I heard. As our king, I felt it only right to tell you." The messenger replied, looking uncomfortable.

Again dead silence, as many in the room shared glances with each other. Most eyes finally found their way to Catelyn Stark who's eyes were wide and filled with tears.

"Oh Ned…" She muttered in sorrow as she covered her mouth and let out a sob.

"You think this is true?" Robb stated as he rose to his feet, his focus entirely on his mother.

"It makes sense. Honorable Ned Stark. The only black mark on his name was that bastard boy." The Blackfish noted, as Catelyn let out another sob, but nodded through her tears.

"Robert Baratheon would have killed the babe had he known. He let Tywin Lannister murder Rhaegar's other children without so much as a slap on the wrist." Edmure stated as Robb stood in front of his mother.

"Ned loved his sister… he would stain his honor to keep her only child safe." Catelyn muttered, heartbroken and despondent. To think, the black mark she had held against her beloved husband for so long could quite possibly be a falsehood born of his desire to protect his blood, the thought made her sick. For so long she had hated the bastard boy, for so long she had held resentment towards him and her husband, and it could all be a lie.

"We need to go back. We'll have our army stationed here, and we'll slip back into the North. I need to speak with Jon, hear what he has to say." Robb stated after a moment.

"Jon Snow isn't the man you remember your grace. If he truly is this Aegon Targaryen, than he has put forth his claim for the Iron Throne. He's taken the Far North, the Wall, the Gift and the New Gift. Now he holds Winterfell. You march North, and you may lose your crown." The Blackfish noted for all to hear, making sure that those around understood the gravity of the situation.

"I never wanted to be king. The Northern Lords made me one, and I accepted, because it was my duty. They were tired of some southern ruler telling us what to do. Jon isn't a southerner. He's one of us. He was raised by my father, to be a Stark. Regardless of his blood. Regarding his possible conquests, what I do know is that he's reclaimed my home, and rescued my brothers. He has Winterfell. If he wanted to, he could claim it as his own, instead Bran remains lord of the castle, and Jon has not seized the North. At worse Bran has agreed to form an alliance with Jon. Regardless, Jon is defending the North, protecting it from dangers. He called me there, so we could unite and face the Lannisters together. The last time a Targaryen with dragons came to the North, king Torrhen bent the knee to save his people. I know Jon, but I don't know his queen, this sorceress." Robb explained to them all.

"If this is true, and he asks that you bend the knee to him, what will you do?" Catelyn asked.

"I'll do what is best for the North. No matter what the truth may be, he has our blood. If he has married a queen that makes him a king, no matter if this is true or if it isn't. I have to see it all for myself, and make my decision from that." Robb replied, earning a nod from Catelyn.

"Then what are your orders your grace?" Edmure asked.

"My army will garrison here at Riverrun to ensure the Riverlands are kept safe. I'll order Lord Bolton to take his forces from Harrenhal and meet us as we travel north. We'll need to slip past the twins and the Karstarks to avoid any issues. We'll send word to Jon, letting him know. Regardless of all of it, we need more men. Even if the messenger is wrong and Jon only has a fifth of that number, that's still ten thousand men. A force like that will restore us to full strength and give us what we need to return to our plans in the west." Robb informed his uncle and the room.

"Very well your grace. Who will remain behind to guard Riverrun?" The Blackfish inquired.

"Well… that depends on Lord Edmure." Robb responded as he turned his attention to his uncle who eyed him curiously.

"If all of this turns out to be true, I may be returning as a lord, not a king. If I bend the knee to this Northern Queen, it'll be for the good of the North. But that's a decision I must make for my people. I cannot make it for the Riverlords. I'll understand if you wish to remain here and protect the Riverlands, and I'll give you command of my forces to ensure you can keep it safe until I return. But I think its for the best that lord Edmure make this decision himself. I would welcome his company in my journey north, if he so desires." Robb explained, earning a look of contemplation from Edmure.

"You're right in that regard. If this turns out to be true, all of it, then we'll need to make the best decision for our people. I'll go north with you, meet with Jon Snow, see his army for myself. If this turns out to be true, if he truly is Rhaegar's son, if he truly has the army he says he does, if he does have dragons, well… I know what my decision will be." Edmure replied.

"Then we'll send a raven to Lord Bolton and begin moving. The sooner we join forces with Jon, the sooner we can march on King's Landing and get my sisters back." Robb commanded, earning a chorus of agreements from his advisers.

The room quickly emptied leaving Catelyn and Jeyne as the only other two in the room, with Robb.

"Do you think it's true… that he's really the son of Prince Rhaegar?" Jeyne inquired.

"I don't know. There was always a regal nature to my brother. Something distinctly southern about him. It reminded me of mother, in that way. I always thought his true mother was definitely a southern girl. But maybe it was the father who was the southerner? I wont know the truth until I speak with him." Robb replied, earning a nod from his wife.

"If Jon has captured the Wall and abolished the Night's Watch, your Uncle Benjen may be with him." Catelyn noted, causing Robb to smile.

"Only more reason to get back to him. After we meet with Jon mother, I want you to go home. Go back to Bran and Rickon. They'll need you now, more than ever." Robb said to his mother. She stared back for a moment but nodded in agreement.

Not long afterwards, Robb and his entourage departed from Riverrun. It would take time for him to maneuver around the Twins and avoid running into the back of the departing Karstark forces. Still though, Robb knew it had to be done, something in his gut told him he needed to go to Moat Cailin and speak with Jon.

He'd been dreaming about his brother a lot lately, could almost hear his voice in his sleep. Jeyne had even mentioned on occasion that he would awaken from a deep slumber and pace the room, growling and whispering to himself, and he wouldn't respond when she tried to speak to him, after a while he'd return to bed, and awaken without a single memory of what had happened.

Jeyne rationalized that he was sleepwalking, but Robb didn't think so. He never used to sleepwalk, and his constant dreams of wolves, and hunting, and Jon, concerned him.

He needed to speak with his brother, needed to know the truth. If the gods were good and the messenger was right, than Jon would have an army of fifty thousand waiting for him. And they would march south together, and reclaim their sisters.

Far off in the lands of Middle Earth, the White Council convened once again, this time joined by Círdan the shipwright, and Glorfindel both of whom had been summoned to participate due to the speculations surrounding the disappearance of the Balrog in Moria.

Saruman, Elrond, and Galadriel, sat with them, waiting patiently for Gandalf to arrive. Their eagerness to hear what he had to say after many long years away, and their apprehension towards what it could all mean, left them rather nervous.

Gandalf was quick to arrive knowing full well that the others would have gathered after hearing of his arrival. He was pleasently surprised to see that the council had expanded to include the wisdom of Círdan and Glorfindel, and offered the two a pleasant greeting.

He was quick to take his seat and allow the others to settle in around him.

"Nearly Eighteen years you've been traveling the world in search of answers, Gandalf. What news have you brought us?" Saruman asked, beginning the meeting.

"I can confirm without any shadow of doubt that the demon in the darkness of Moria has departed. I walked those dark halls and risked life and limb at the hands of the goblins who call those mines home, but I was able to confirm that it is gone." Gandalf informed them all, earning troubled looks from all of his surrounding council members.

"What of Mordor? Are there any signs that would indicate that the Dark Lord has reappeared?" Elrond inquired after a moment of silence.

"Oh yes." Gandalf said, his look troubled.

"Speak of it." Glorfindel urged him.

"My first destination was to Mordor, to gather what information I could from the heart of darkness. In the western portions of Mordor, the Plains of Gorgoroth, western Núrn, both remain quiet. The tribes of men still scatter across the plains, along with a few tribes of orcs that occasionally challenge them. Gondor still holds its forts in the west, and maintains a presence at the Black Gate. However, the orcs have set up a strong position at the foundation of Barad-Dûr. A large camp now surrounds the base of the Dark Lord's old fortress, and a powerful Black Númenórean now commands them. The Tribes of men as well as the orcs call this man, the Mouth of Sauron." Gandalf informed them, earning silence in reply.

Saruman's gaze hardened at hearing that and his eyes fell to the table in thought. Galadriel's eyes drifted off, as she was also deep in thought. Círdan, Glorfindel, and Elrond kept their focus on Gandalf, waiting for him to continue.

"There's more, unfortunately." Gandalf stated, drawing Galadriel's and Saruman's attention back to him.

"Go on." Saruman motioned.

"While in the western portions of Mordor our enemy's presence is light, in the east, they grow far more numerous. In my travels there I encountered swelling numbers of orcs, and uruks. I interrogated a handful of orcs while I was there and learned that our enemy has begun gathering the beasts of shadow to him. Trolls, wargs, caragors, graugs, all gathering in the east, amassing in large numbers. The further east I went, the greater their forces grew. I was forced to turn back when their numbers became to thick, and the risk of my capture became all to real. I can estimate that our enemy's numbers have grown to at least forty thousand in the east. I have no doubt they are amassing for an attack on the western portions of Mordor." Gandalf said to them, further darkening the mood.

"What of the Gondorians?" Elrond inquired.

"I informed the commander at the Black Gate upon my exit from those lands and I implored him to send word to Minas Tirith and call for aid. I anticipate a major attack on the Gondorian fortifications within Mordor." Gandalf responded.

"A wise course of action. If the Black Gate falls into the enemy's hands once more than the forces of evil will once again claim dominion over Mordor and will use it to shield their actions from our gaze in the coming years." Glorfindel noted.

"What of the Balrog? Or the Dark Lord? This Black Númenórean can not be the only one leading this dark host." Saruman pressed.

"I found no evidence of the Balrog in Mordor, nor did I take any notice to the presence of the Dark Lord. Aside from the title of his servant at the foundations of Barad-Dûr, there is no indication that Sauron himself has truly reappeared in Mordor." Gandalf replied to his question earning a calculated nod from the leader of the White Council.

"What of this Mouth of Sauron? Are we so certain that he is truly a Black Númenórean? We once believed something similar about the Lord of Angmar, and those beliefs led to the fall of the northern kingdom of men. Are we certain that this Mouth of Sauron is not one of the Nazgûl returned from their graves?" Glorfindel inquired.

"I cannot say for certain, lord Glorfindel. I was unable to draw close to their fortifications around Barad-Dûr's foundations. I sensed powerful evils there, but whether those belonged to this Mouth, or were remnants of Sauron's reign, I cannot say for certain." Gandalf answered.

"And what did you find in Moria, beyond the absence of the Balrog? Did you locate any clues that could indicate where it had gone to?" Saruman asked.

"I did. I interrogated several goblins within the mines and learned from them some interesting rumors." Gandalf responded sharing a glance with Galadriel as he did.

"Don't keep us in suspense my old friend. Tell us what these goblins had to say." Saruman commanded, eyeing Gandalf with curiosity.

"They informed me of two very interesting pieces of information. One was of a shadow that had entered the mountain. It spoke with the goblin king in Moria and then descended into the depths and approached the nameless darkness. Not long afterwards, it departed, but from what the goblins understood it was headed for Erebor to contact the Dragon Smaug." Gandalf began, his words again causing the council to shift in unease as they shared concerned glances with one another.

"And the second piece of information?" Galadriel implored him to continue.

"The second piece of information was something the goblins didn't understand. The Balrog stirred in the shadows and began to draw in goblins with mesmerizing flames. It gathered hundreds of them over the course of many months, perhaps building an army of sorts. Suddenly though, it began to slaughter the goblins it had gathered. Slaying hundreds of them. Not long afterwards, it vanished. It's my belief that it gathered them for some sort of ritual. Something that has allowed it to slip from our sight." Gandalf replied, finishing his report.

Silence surrounded the table as everyone digested what they had just heard. After several long moments, Saruman began to speak.

"These discoveries you've brought to us, are of great concern. Our enemy gathers it's strength and moves in the shadows unseen. I believe it is prudent that we investigate this further. I am not yet ready to believe that Sauron has returned, and I do not believe the evidence you have gathered points to that conclusion, but I do believe what you've found is a dangerous omen. An indication for what is to come. I believe the time has come for us all to commence our own investigations. To gather information in preparation for action. We must keep an eye on the situation in Mordor, if the hosts of the east come west to reclaim Mordor, we must be ready to observe their movements and see through their deceptions." Saruman stated, earning nods from his fellows.

"Then with your leave I will continue my investigation to prove or disprove Sauron's involvement." Gandalf stated, rising to his feet.

"How?" Círdan inquired.

"I will follow in the footsteps of the shadow that entered Moria and spoke to the Goblin King and the Balrog, and survived. The goblins believed it would head towards Erebor to engage the dragon Smaug in negotiations. I will follow it there, and try to pick up it's trail. I have a feeling that this shadow will help provide us with answers." Gandalf explained to them.

Saruman was silent for a moment before rising to his feet as well.

"I agree with this course of action, but offer my suggestion to no small deal of caution. We do not wish to stir the dragon from it's slumber, should the goblin rumors prove to be false. I would also suggest we all carry out our own investigations, so that next we convene, we can decide if, and what, course of action is necessary." Saruman stated in response.

While the others offered their agreement, Galadriel shared a look with Gandalf. Suspicion danced in her gaze, as she sensed that Gandalf had ulterior motives for looking after Erebor and the Dragon. Gandalf seemed to note her suspicion and offer a small smile in response.

Galadriel offered one in return, trusting in Gandalf's wisdom. If he had a plan in regards to the Lonely Mountain, than she would support him.

After all, no member of the White Council could deny that the power of evil was growing. A darkness was creeping back into the world. And she could only hope it was only as terrible as Sauron, and not something much worse.

-**To Be continued-**

_**Alright, here's the next chapter for you guys, nice and long one, hope everyone is having a good time. Hope they like the build-up of mystery and the coming wars. Hopefully starting next chapter we can actually begin the wars in the south. Anyway until later.**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Alright, here's the next chapter for you guys. Hope everyone is staying safe.**_

**Darkness Reborn**

Chapter 11: The Growing Shadow.

Seven Ironborn reavers sat around a campfire late into the night. They had received word that Yara was on her way there. The rider who had delivered the message was half dead from an arrow wound to his chest, and he didn't live much longer after he sputtered out the message.

Now the men sat waiting, many of them openly wondering why Yara would be coming here, to this lonely stretch of beach. Nearby sat a dozen or so rowboats, and anchored just off the beach was a set of four longboats.

They were nestled northwest of Deepwood Motte, off of the eastern coast of Sea Dragon Point. These men had originally been a part of the force Yara had led to take the Motte during the opening stages of their campaign, and because of that, they were some of the finest killers on the Iron Islands. The only force that could compare would have been those with Victarion Greyjoy who went to Barrowtown and had plans to harass the forces at Moat Cailin and try to take the castle for their own.

The only reason Yara would be coming here was to sail elsewhere, but they didn't have enough ships for the force she had taken to Deepwood Motte, which was what the seven found curious.

The rider had arrived late the previous night, telling them that Yara would be coming sometime during the day. That time had passed and she was late, now the seven men could only sit around and openly wonder where the hell she was.

The sounds of men racing through the forest on horseback, brought the seven men to their feet. They all lifted their weapons and faced the forest, waiting to see who would emerge.

Soon the sight of about a hundred men burst into view, emerging from the forest on horseback. Some of the horses even carried two men. Yara led them and was quick to dismount and order her men aboard the rowboats.

The seven could immediately tell that something was wrong. These riders were ravaged. Some covered in black, oily blood. While others were missing limbs, one man had an arrow sticking out of his back, while another a small axe buried in his shoulder blade.

Yara approached the seven, her look almost feral. Blackened blood stained her face, and her eyes were wide and filled with uncertainty, and even fear. The way her head shook, and her hands trembled, plus the state of the rest of her men, it was obvious that they'd been attacked.

"Yara… who the fuck did this?" One of the men asked.

"Monsters." Yara responded as she pushed past them, one man caught the scent of her, and nearly wretched. The blood that coated her smelled of something foul, and it made his eyes water.

"Every man get on the fucking boats! They could catch up to us at any moment!" Yara shouted as she made her way to one of the rowboats.

"What the fuck happened?" The same man asked another reaver as he trudged by. This man was visibly shaking, and was holding his arm which hung limply at his side.

"Monsters… They were eating us!" He whimpered as he trudged by, his gaze locked on the seas, desperate to be free of the horrors on land.

The seven men shared glances with each other but quickly fell in line. Most of their fellows weren't even bothering to strip their gear from their horses. The only things they grabbed were food and water and then quickly ran towards the rowboats.

It was obvious, they were running away.

Less than an hour after the Ironborn had departed, orcs marched out of the forest. The horses billowed and neighed at them, fearful of the beasts that accompanied the orcs. A few caragors and wargs, growled at the horses hungrily but their riders kept them in check.

One such rider stared out over the open sea, unable to spot any Ironborn ships in the darkness. The burned out fire on the beach, alerted him that someone had been here waiting for the horsemen.

"Gather up the horses. Butcher the injured ones and let's have us a feast. Send the rest to the warchief, as my offering." The captain of the orc hunting party commanded, earning cheers from his fellows as they set to work.

Their force had just retaken Deepwood Motte and they had now broken the Ironborn's hold over this part of the North. Only Barrowtown now remained to the south. Soon these reavers would be driven out of these lands and back into the sea.

-**Winterfell-**

Back at Winterfell, Aegon continued his work with Benjen, showing his uncle how to transform into his werewolf form. Slowly but surely, the man was starting to understand and grasp the magics that dwelled within him. At the same time, Aegon aided Bran with his skin-changing abilities. At first Bran could only perform such magics in his sleep but with Aegon's help, he began to understand and grasp the powers that he possessed.

Aegon also suspected that Bran was a Greenseer, and could see visions of the present, the past, and possibly even the future. He was uncertain of how to hone these abilities but he made sure to make Bran aware of his powers and what was happening to him, using this as an opportunity to further endear himself to the young lord.

In their time of waiting, Aegon began to slowly work his way back into Lilith's heart. She was naturally a bit distant at first, but it was apparent that she wanted things to go back to the way they were when the two of them were young. She was receptive to his advances, which is what ultimately mattered to him. Even if it took a hundred years, so long as he was making progress, he knew he'd get what he wanted eventually.

Word finally reached Aegon after a few weeks of waiting that Robb was moving North, sneaking up to meet with him.

"So what will you do now?" Bran inquired as Aegon informed him about Robb's passage back into the North.

"I'll be heading down to Moat Cailin to meet up with him. Robb and I will then march south to take back my throne and rescue Sansa and Arya." Aegon informed him, earning a pleasant nod from the boy.

"Your mother is with Robb. I have no doubt she'll continue back up to Winterfell. It wont be long now before you see her again." Aegon offered as well, earning a further smile from the young lord.

"Will you come back to see us, when you become King?" Bran asked after a moment.

"Of course I will. I don't want you spreading this around, but you are my favorite brother." Aegon replied, whispering that last part to him, earning a playful laugh from Bran.

Bran was quick to offer him a hug, which Aegon returned. Not long after, he departed, eager to begin moving south and continue his conquest.

Aegon quickly made preparations to head for Moat Cailin and await his cousin's arrival. In the time since the message was sent, Aegon kept an eye on the conflict in the west. Around the time that Robb's reply reached him, word was sent back that Aegon's forces had begun repelling attacks from the Ironborn, and had retaken Deepwood Motte.

Aegon had placed a skilled orc warchief in charge of the counterattack and given him specific orders to try and capture the longboats of the Ironborn, wherever possible. Adding those ships to their arsenal would help immensely when the time came to lay siege to the South.

So with those orders in mind, hit and run tactics became the norm for Aegon's forces. They would often sneak into Ironborn camps or captured villages, chain the longboats together, or even steal them, while the Ironborn were raiding, pillaging, or celebrating, and then they would attack the Ironborn Reavers.

With Deepwood Motte retaken, now it was time to turn their attention towards the largest Ironborn force, which had attacked Barrowtown, and was harassing Moat Cailin.

With the Ironborn situation being dealt with, Aegon and Lilith departed Winterfell and marched the majority of their forces south. Aegon brought Theon with him, as well as Ramsay Snow, to allow the man to continue the ruse of earning Theon's confidence. The goal was to learn from Theon secrets about Pyke, garrisons, pathways, anything he may have seen that could be useful when they turned their attention onto the Ironborn.

Benjen, Maester Aemon, and Tormund Giantsbane accompanied Aegon and Lilith, along with their army, to Moat Cailin. Aegon had left behind an Oleg Warchief as commander of his forces at Winterfell to help Bran secure the peace and keep the castle safe.

The two dark lords settled into their position at the Moat as their army made camp just north of the rebuilt fortress.

What had once been a ruined collection of towers that were slowly sinking into the muck, had been long restored to it's former glory. The castle was commanded by servants of the Lord of Gifts, and had been commanded by a rumored mystic by the name of Titus Hughes. Hughes was a descendant of a long line of Valyrian slaves, taken from Valyria years ago, and installed as servants to the Lords of Darkness. The ones at Moat Cailin had interbred with Northerners and many had long since lost the familial traits of their ancestors.

Titus was nearly fifty years of age, and was one of the very few to still hold some of the traits of his ancestors, having tanned olive skin, small dark eyes, and oily black hair. He was tall, and lithe, his features very sharp, and angular. He held himself with a rigid and stern demeanor, like that of a soldier, and was quite sharp witted. He was also very blunt, and never tended to drift far from the point of conversation. He had been taught in the ways of magic by his father, and his father's father. Both of whom had learned magic from Annatar's servants, and Annatar himself.

His family had always served as castellan of the Moat in Annatar's absence, and on occasion would be seen at court, in Winterfell, there representing Annatar and his desires. Rumor had it that Annatar had long since disappeared or even that he'd died sometime during Robert's Rebellion. According to those in King's Landing the sorcerer had simply vanished after the Starks had been murdered, but he hadn't been seen since then. So no one really knew for sure.

He was very quick to surrender the castle to the devices of its true master, all it took was a flashing of familiar emerald eyes for Titus to know exactly who it was beneath the face of Aegon Targaryen.

Once at the castle, the two settled into waiting, and Aegon took the opportunity to approach Lilith and continue working on repairing their relationship.

He found her standing atop one of the towers, staring out over the marshlands to the south.

"What do you see?" Aegon inquired as he stepped up next to her.

"They say the Children of the Forest brought down the Hammer of Waters to make these lands. I sense that there may be some validity to those stories. There is very old magic here. Imbued into the land like a great scar. It makes me wonder how such powerful beings could have lost to the race of men?" Lilith responded.

"Numbers. Weak will. Perhaps the cost of their magic was too great?" Aegon speculated.

"Perhaps they dealt with powers beyond their control. I guess that would be a fair assessment." Lilith hummed in response, her gaze still peering over the swamp lands to the south.

Aegon was silent for a moment has he stared at her, his gaze passing over her shrouded frame. The blackness of her gown made her pale flesh stand out. Her raven black locks, did much the same for her face, emphasizing her eyes and the red of her lips. Dark and mysterious, she appeared. A powerful allure that drew all eyes to her. Men and women couldn't help but stare at her, which is why she often kept to herself.

It was hard to believe, given her power, but she was such a shy thing. Delicate even, in a way.

It was a moment before he realized that she was staring back at him, her gaze no longer heavy, instead now filled with amusement, and that subtle yet potent charm, that always managed to melt his icy heart.

"Admiring me, baby brother?" Lilith inquired.

"What's not to admire my dark lady? A beauty like yourself should be admired, placed onto a pedestal for all to adore." Aegon replied, reaching out to her and gently caressing her face, as she smiled.

"Flatterer." Lilith hummed with amusement, earning a chuckle from Aegon.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Aegon stated.

"It's not a bad thing, though people only heap flattery onto others when they want something." Lilith noted.

"And what could I possibly want?" Aegon inquired as one of his hands found a resting place on her hips and he drew her in closer.

"I know how your mind works, and I see the way you look at me. Those lecherous, lust filled eyes." Lilith growled in reply as her hands found their way to his chest, her fingers dancing across the cloth, across his pectorals and up to his collar bone.

"Would you have me look at you some other way?" Aegon inquired, leaning close to her.

"No." Lilith whispered in response as she closed the gap and kissed him.

The two held one another as their lips connected, Lilith herself pulling Aegon tightly against her as Aegon's hands circled around her hips and found rest on the small of her back.

The two continued to kiss, ignoring the world around them as their kisses grew more lustful and passionate.

Smirking internally, Aegon's hands drifted lower, sliding across Lilith's butt, causing her to suck in a breath as she pulled her lips from his. The two locked eyes, Aegon smirking as he continued to fondle her, while Lilith stared back her emerald eyes beginning to burn a fiery orange.

She let out a sensual growl as her hand slid into his hair and pulled him into a forceful and rough kiss.

The kiss grew deeper as their tongues began to intertwine, they would of continued, when suddenly Lilith pulled away, the sound of a door opening in the room below them alerting her that someone was approaching.

Aegon released her from his grip though never took his eyes off of her, as an orc warcheif climbed the steps to the top of the tower and dropped to a knee.

"My lady, an army approaches from the south. Their sigil a white sun on a black field." The warchief offered.

"House Karstark." Aegon noted as he turned his gaze back to the swamps of the south. He couldn't yet see the army approaching until he focused his vision, his gaze extending into the swamps, pushing through the bogs and the trees and coming upon the figures closing in on them.

"I though your cousin wasn't taking the King's Road." Lilith stated, her head titling with curiosity.

"He wasn't. His letter said that he was sneaking back into the North. I have no idea why, but maybe the Karstarks will have an answer. Shall we go and greet them?" Aegon inquired.

"We shall." Lilith replied.

Lilith and Aegon were quick to mount some horses and wait a dozen or so yards before the entrance into Moat Cailin. They were joined by Titus, Benjen Stark, and a handful of loyal men, including Tormund and some of his wildlings, as well as Ramsay Snow who had been informed that his father traveled with Robb Stark and would meet with them at Moat Cailin.

They were expecting to see the sigil of the Stark Direwolf amongst the column of cavalrymen as it approached, but instead all they saw was a continuous line of Karstarks.

"Looks like Karstark is taking his whole army home." Ramsay noted aloud, earning a nod of agreement from Benjen.

"Why though?" Aegon asked aloud, noting that there must have been over three thousand men in the column and almost all of them were mounted soldiers. Three thousand mounted men was a powerful force. Sending it north was a waste of resources, so why would Robb do it?

"We shall see very soon, your grace." Titus stated, as the Karstark men closed the distance. A horn was quick to sound, drawing the column to a halt.

"Lord Hughes… let us pass. We are returning to the North." The head of the column spoke. He was an unassuming man, older then most, with a hard gaze and a stout appearance.

"Where is your lord? I do not see Rickard Karstark amongst you?" Titus asked.

"Lord Rickard is dead. Murdered by Robb Stark." The man spat in reply.

"Murdered you say? Why?" Titus inquired, his gaze calm, and focused, his dark eyes seemingly passing straight through the horseman, and causing him to shift nervously.

"Our lord sought to avenge the deaths of his sons who were murdered by the Lannisters. He repaid them by killing two of Kevin Lannister's sons." The man replied.

"In battle?" Titus pressed, causing the man's gaze to harden.

"We went south to kill Lannisters and that's what lord Rickard did. Those boys didn't deserve the air they breathed." The commander spat in reply.

"And now your lord is calling you home? What of your oaths to the Starks? What of your allegiance to Robb Stark?" Titus inquired.

His reply was for the commander to spit into the mud.

"Piss on house Stark. Robb Stark murdered our lord, and let his traitor mother go unpunished." The commander hissed.

"So you're deserters is what I'm hearing." Lilith spoke up, drawing everyone's attention to her.

"Is it desertion to walk away from a man who murders your lord?" The Commander spat at her, earning a dark glare from Aegon in response for his tone.

"It is when that lord committed treason by murdering prisoners that weren't his to kill. Your lord committed treason and died for it. At the hands of his king, no less. Now you've abandoned your king. I believe they call that desertion, and for the Lord Karstark, that would make him also guilty of treason." Lilith commented as a dark smirk spread across her face.

"Who are you to open your mouth you stupid cunt? You know not of what you speak!" The commander hissed out, his hand falling to his sword.

"Titus, send a raven to Winterfell. Command Warchief Barun to amass a small army and march them to Karhold. Harald Karstark is commanded to answer for crimes of treason against his king and his lord." Aegon commanded, earning a nod from Titus.

"Who are you to declare such a thing?" The commander growled out, spitting as he did.

"I am Aegon of houses Targaryen and Stark. For your words against my bride, and your desertion of my cousin's army, I am going to kill you." Aegon answered, laying bare his own fury. No one spoke of his beloved sister like that. This fool would die for speaking in such a way.

Aegon dismounted his horse and drew his sword.

"You really want to do this boy? I've been fighting in battles since before you dropped out of your mother's cunt!" The commander demanded as he dismounted his horse as well and began to approach him.

As he approached, Aegon tossed his sword into the soil and continued forward, earning a confused look from his opponent, as well as Benjen, Tormund, and Ramsay.

Aegon let out a bestial growl and before the eyes of his newest subordinates as well as his opponents his body rapidly began to alter. His clothes vanished in an instant and for less than half the blink of an eye he was unchanged, only for his flesh to suddenly turn black as a coat of fur matching his hair color covered him from head to toe. His limbs elongated, his face morphed, within three seconds, his transformation was complete, and there, standing before them, was the towering form of a wolf-like creature.

Aegon balanced on his hind legs and towered over the Karstark soldier, even lowered slightly in a partial squat, the Karstark commander barely reached the bottom of the beast's chest.

"What the fuck?" Tormund muttered.

"The power of the Stark blood." Benjen stated, mesmerized by the sight of the fearsome wolf.

"Power of the Stark blood..." Ramsay whispered in awe of the towering wolf-beast.

The Karstark soldier let out a roar of fear and rage and struck out with his sword.

Faster than the eye could easily follow, Aegon back handed his opponent's strike sending his sword flying out of his hands, where it landed in the muck of the marsh, nearly forty feet away. Aegon followed his strike up by driving his clawed hand into the man's stomach.

An ear splitting shriek of agony tore through the air as Aegon lifted him up and drove his other clawed hand into his stomach as well.

Slowly, Aegon lifted the screaming man above his head, and then with a roar of rage, pulled the man in two.

A roar of vicious glee rose up from the walls of Moat Cailin as the orcs and men upon it cheered for their dark master.

Blood and guts poured down onto Aegon's wolfish body as he tossed both halves of the man into the muck and turned his gaze towards the horsemen.

"You men are guilty of desertion. Surrender now, and swear fealty to house Stark once more, and you will be allowed to receive the judgment of Robb Stark. Any man who does not, will receive King Aegon's fury." Lilith stated, her voice seemingly carrying out across the entire column of three thousand.

Most in the back hadn't even seen what had happened, but those in the front were already trying to escape, or were simply trying to stay on their horses as the beasts lost their minds in the presence of a super-predator, like a werewolf.

A whistle passed out from Titus' lips and the gates behind them began to open.

"Any man who surrenders is to be spared, otherwise, deliver your lords' justice." Titus commanded as a company of men began to emerge armed with spears, tower shields, and bows.

"Midir, please make sure they don't try running." Lilith stated, again her voice was calm, and rather peaceful, yet it pierced the air, and in response, a deafening roar shook the earth as Midir fell from the clouds and took aim at the rear of the column.

Within moments the swamp lands, and the only road through the marsh vanished in a wall of flame, preventing the horsemen from escaping.

The sight of such a massive beast, broke the entire force almost instantly. Men dove off of their horses and into the swamp on either side of the rode and began swimming or trudging to safety.

"Seems we're fighting today." Lilith hummed as she dismounted and began walking towards the panicking horsemen.

Benjen, Tormund, and Ramsay stared after her, very interested in seeing what this average sized woman, was planning on doing. All of them suspected some sort of powerful magic, given her reputation, they were not expecting for her form to erupt into a pillar of fire. From those flames emerged a towering armored knight that stood even taller than Aegon did while on his haunches.

Taking hold of her smoking obsidian greatsword, the fiery knight began to advance on the men, Aegon stalking by her side.

The two were quickly joined by another fiery explosion, as the towering form of Gothmog, fell from the sky and landed behind them. The cloudy sky seemed to darken as the three monstrous titans stalked forward. Before reaching the Karstarck men, Gothmog's form changed, becoming far more draconic and monstrous.

Screams of terror tore out from the column as the three began their attack. Gothmog leaped high into the air, landing somewhere amongst the center of the column and lashing out with a flaming whip that incinerate a half-dozen men.

Aegon and Lilith quickly descended on the closest soldiers, tearing into them while ignoring all those that threw down their arms or cowered at their feet.

Within moments, orcs and men were swarming out of Moat Cailin to capture or kill the Karstark men.

Benjen, Tormund, and Ramsay were quick to join the fighting, cutting down the deserters who refused to surrender.

Most of their foes put up very little fight, with Aegon, Lilith, and Gothmog leading the charge, followed soon after by the Iron Titan, The Witch King, and the Nazgûl, the Karstark cavalry broke near instantly.

Most men fell from the main road and dove into the swamp, risking their lives at the hands of lizard lions, and all other manner of beasts that lived in the marsh, over the vicious orcs, or the monstrous lords of darkness.

By the time the fighting was over, less than an hour had passed, and nearly half of the Karstark men had been killed. Of the remaining half, a third who were injured in the fighting were immediately put to death, as they had fought against them, the rest were brought into Moat Cailin and set in the largest courtyard while makeshift pens could be built for them.

"Please, I don't want to die." A Karstark man muttered as Ramsay and a few of his own men tossed him into the crowd of others.

"You should have thought about that before you decided to abandon your king." Ramsay replied, almost like a parent, disciplining a troublesome child.

"That was the bloodiest fight I've ever seen." One of Ramsay's men noted, earning a nod of agreement from Ramsay as he began to wipe the blood and grime off of his sword.

"Was the most one sided fight I've seen." Ramsay corrected, earning a dark chuckle from his compatriot.

"You believe any of this shit?" The man inquired, drawing Ramsay's attention to him.

"I never used to. Never believed in magic. I always thought it was a bunch of cow shit, old women fed to their children to keep them in line. Let's just say recent events have changed my outlook." Ramsay responded earning another chuckle from his comrade.

A roar was heard, drawing both men's attention. They both spotted King Aegon, still in wolf form, dragging a cowering man by his leg and tossing him into the group of prisoners.

Blood and awful matted his fur, as well as a spear, emerged from his back, pinned deeply into the flesh.

"My king..." Maester Aemon slowly approached Aegon.

Aegon turned his gaze to his kinsmen his wolfish features softening at the sight of him.

"Your grace, you're hurt." Aemon noted, gesturing towards the spear.

Aegon let out a growl and shifted, presenting the spear to Aemon. The Maester quickly grabbed the pole-arm and pulled it free, earning a growl from Aegon in response. Aemon immediately dropped the spear and ran his hand over the area of the injury, attempting to part the fur enough to see it. He just barely managed to find it by the time it healed over, leaving little more than a small bald patch in the fur.

Aemon took a step back, amazement filling his gaze, as Aegon began to return to human form.

His clothes immediately reformed around his body once he was human sized again, and his fur covered flesh was replaced by his pale northern skin.

Blood and grime remained on his body, though much of it was now covered by his clothes. Aegon let out a grunt of annoyance and rotated his shoulders before turning towards Maester Aemon.

"Thank you Maester Aemon. Could you please check on any of the injured men, help out Maester Brenn?" Aegon inquired, gesturing toward Moat Cailin's own Maester who was already tending to some of the injured humans. He earned a tentative nod from his grand-uncle, whom was still a bit worried for Aegon's health despite seeing the wound heal over almost instantly.

"My King, what shall we do with the bodies?" Titus inquired, stepping up next to him.

"I plan on moving south very soon Titus. Keep your experiments a secret from the northerners until I leave, afterwards you may do as you please with them." Aegon replied, knowing full well that Titus, much like his father and grandfather had dabbled in the blackest of magics. Aegon encouraged their sorcery but he didn't need it to be the focal point of an argument between him and Robb, at least not right now, so best to keep it a secret until they left.

Sitting on a bench not far off, gazing up at the clouds was Lilith. She seemed relatively relaxed, having had her fill of fighting in dealing with the deserting Karstarks. Aegon slowly approached her, though he did not sit next to her, not wanting to dirty her with the filth that covered his body.

"You stink." Lilith noted still eyeing the clouds.

"Battle will do that." Aegon responded with a snort of amusement.

"Then go wash up and maybe we can continue from where we left off." Lilith stated, slowly lowering her gaze as a smirk crept across her lips.

Aegon smirked in response and let out a laugh, turning to do just that.

-**With Robb-**

Robb and his company had just arrived on the Causeway, the part of the King's Road that ran through the Neck. They had to partially pass through some swampland in order to sneak past the twins and avoid the Kartstarks heading home. Luckily Robb had managed to contact Howland Reed and the Crannogmen to assist them through the swamp, keeping casualties to only a handful who wandered off in the wrong direction.

They had planned to push all the way through the neck with the Crannogmen leading them, but halfway through their journey they received word from Greywater Watch, that informed them that the Karstarks had already gone by, and were most likely past Moat Cailin by now.

Hearing that Howland Reed suggested to Robb that they return to the King's Road and just continue north. If the Karstarks were past Moat Cailin then there was no reason to fear running into the back of them, since Robb only intended to go so far as Moat Cailin.

It was while they were traveling to the King's Road that Greatjon Umber had let slip to Howland Reed what they had heard about Jon, and his possible Targaryen heritage.

Now, safely on the King's Road, Lord Reed decided it was time to speak with Robb about the truth that he knew.

Robb, Jeyne, Catelyn, and Edmure all stood in Robb's tent staring curiously at the small lord of Greywater Watch. The Reeds and the Starks had long been friends so Robb was more than happy to set aside some time to allow his father's friend to speak to him.

"Your grace… I've heard whispers during our travels, whispers of what may be waiting for us, at Moat Cailin. These whispers have led me to believe you may be seeking answers to a truth, a very specific truth that only two people in the world held." Howland Reed began.

Robb was confused as he stared at Lord Reed, he knew what he was referring to but he didn't understand what he was getting at. What could Howland Reed have to say in regards to the secret surrounding Jon's heritage? His father had never told anyone, not even his own wife, so why would he have told Lord Reed unless…

"You were there…?" Robb realized after a moment. It suddenly clicked in his mind, one of the stories he had heard about his father's adventures during the Rebellion. Howland Reed had been at the Tower of Joy where Ned Stark had found Lyanna Stark.

He had been so focused on making it to Jon that he had almost completely forgotten about that.

"I was your grace. I was with your father when he went to retrieve his sister. I was there when he defeated Ser Arthur Dayne. And I was with him when he found your aunt. I wasn't in the room when she was still alive, but I know what came out of it. Your lord father swore me to secrecy, and I've held that secret for all these years, telling no one, not even my own family." Howland Reed explained.

"But you know the truth? Jon really is Aunt Lyanna's son?" Robb pressed him.

"He is, your grace. And I believe the King's Guard who were present at the Tower to protect her, confirm two thing. That the babe was Prince Rhaegar's, and that the two must have been married. That is the only reason I suspect, the King's Guard would have remained and not gone with the Prince to fight with him at the Trident." Howland responded.

Robb was silent for a moment as he collected his thoughts, his eyes drifted to his wife, then his mother, and then his uncle, before returning to Howland.

"Lord Reed, you and your family have long been friends of House Stark. Your loyalty to my father was admirable and you did him a great honor in holding onto this secret even after his passing. I understand why you chose to tell me the truth here and now, to offer validity to Jon's claim. For his sake, I free you from the oath of secrecy my father placed on you. I will offer my support to your good word, and I'd ask that you offer your voice to my brother's claim when he marches south. Let no man doubt the truth of his words, when supported by one of the men who was there." Robb declared earning a firm nod from Howland.

With confirmation to their questions, Robb hastened his advance through the Causeway and in a short time his forces began to approach Moat Cailin, leaving the thick dense Swamp and passing through the wide open marshlands that made advance through the final stretch into the North, that much more deadly as on the open lands, one could see for a miles, no army could advance through the muck without being spotted by scouts from Moat Cailin, and due to the muck of these marshes, no army was going to be moving very fast, unless they utilized the Causeway which was heavily guarded.

As they closed in on Moat Cailin an unnerving sight, halted their advance. Along the Causeway for as far as they could see, set up every fifty yards or so, a corpse marked the pathway. These bodies were placed upon stakes which ran through their entire bodies, passing out at the shoulder, or even out of the mouths. These corpses were stripped down to their small clothes, and the word 'deserter' was carved into their chests.

What made this sight more ghastly was the small contingent of beastly creatures they found setting it up.

Robb and his company had come to a halt before a troop of roughly fifty orcs, led by an Oleg. The towering beast caused most of Robb's followers to stare dumbfounded at it.

"I think the messenger might have been telling the truth." Edmure noted, his eyes passing from the Oleg to the vicious orcs.

"Who are these lot, more deserters?" One of the orcs inquired with a vicious and bloodthirsty grin.

"Stand down you maggots! See the flag they're waving? These are the ones we were told about." The Oleg barked out, pushing the orc aside and stepping before Robb.

Robb's eyes were laser focused onto the Oleg, who stood almost eye level with Robb who was on horseback.

"King Robb Stark. Welcome to Moat Cailin. King Aegon said we should expect your arrival." The Oleg offered a half-bow.

"I see. Who are these men?" Robb asked, his eyes never leaving the Oleg.

"Deserters from your army. Ka… Kor… I don't remember their names." The Oleg replied with a shrug.

"The were Karstark men?" Catelyn asked, her eyes drifted from the staked corpses to a nearby cart the orcs were pulling down the road. In the back of it, stacked high were dozens of long wooden stakes and corpses.

"Yeah. They came and insulted the Dark Lady. So we killed them. Some of em at least." The Oleg offered with another shrug, and a scratch of his head.

"We'll be heading along to Moat Cailin now. You men, eh… you… keep up the good work." Robb stated, not knowing what else to say to the creatures.

"Will do. Hey! You heard the man get back to work!" The Oleg quickly turned around and ordered the surrounding orcs. He even booted one in the chest sending it careening off the Causeway and into the mucky waters. The orc was quick to resurface and scramble out of the waters as a nearby mound began to move revealing a Lion lizard.

Robb and his forces continued onward while the orcs laughed at their comrade.

Most of those present traveled the road in stunned silence as Moat Cailin began to come into view.

"The Karstarks had over three thousand men on horseback." Edmure whispered to Robb.

"And I don't think it did them any good." Robb replied as they passed over a massive patch of blackened ground. The earth beneath their horse's hooves began to crack, glancing down they could see that this swath of land had been torched by an incredible heat. A heat so intense that it melted the top layer of dirt into blackened glass.

'_Dragons' _ Robb thought to himself as he continued onward, his mother, uncle, and wife by his side. Trotting along with them was Greywind who quickly darted ahead when he spotted something big, furry, and white standing on the road ahead of them.

Despite the unnerving scene of bodies, Robb couldn't help but grin as they closed in on what Greywind had run off to, and found that it was Ghost. Both Direwolves nuzzled and growled at each other, both their tails wagging excessively as they let out whimpers.

"You still remember your brother, don't you Greywind." Robb stated as the two wolves separated from one another and Greywind glanced back at his master.

He then turned back to Ghost, who quickly turned around and raced back towards Moat Cailin. Greywind was quick to follow after his brother, while Robb's company continued at pace.

The gates to Moat Cailin were quick to swing open as Robb and company approached, and they were immediately greeted by Titus Hughes.

"Your grace, welcome back." Titus offered as Robb and his company road in and began to dismount.

Their eyes were quick to spread out to the various orcs, uruks, olegs, caragors, wargs, and spiders that moved about the courtyard and upon the walls. The more they saw the more accurate the messenger's words seemed to be.

"Lord Hughes, it's good to see you again." Robb greeted his bannerman as he dismounted and then aided his wife in doing the same.

Robb's family were quick to join him, as did Jeyne's mother, who had come with her on her journey with Robb.

"Come inside, I'm sure your men are tired from their long journey. I've sent someone to awaken King Aegon, I'm sure he'll be ready to meet you in short order." Titus offered, earning a curious look from Robb.

"It's not like him to be in bed this late." Robb noted as he and the others approached Titus.

"I cannot speak on his behalf, but I suspect he may have spent some time with his intended last night." Titus responded, still as stoic as ever, though his response earned a wolfish smile from Robb, who couldn't help but chuckle.

"Lord Hughes." Roose Bolton offered as he approached the group alongside Greatjon Umber.

"Lord Bolton, Lord Umber." Titus replied offering a polite greeting to the two. "Lord Bolton, your son is here, I wasn't sure if you were aware."

"Ramsay is here?" Roose responded, with a look of surprise.

"Yes, by my understanding he joined forces with King Aegon to retake Winterfell, and he journeyed south at King Aegon's request. I believe he's left Prince Theon in your son's capable hands." Titus informed them. Roose was quiet for a moment but offered a nod of acknowledgment and thanks.

"Theon is here as well?" Robb asked, sharing a glance with his mother as he did.

"Yes, your grace. He's currently in the dungeons, held there at King Aegon's request. We've also built a pen to house the remainder of the Karstark deserters. I believe King Aegon planned on offering them to you for judgment." Titus responded, earning a focused nod from Robb.

"Go on you two, I see him." Robb heard a familiar voice state. He turned his gaze towards the main keep of the Moat, to see Jon approaching him, by his side Ghost and Greywind, it was obvious that Ghost had led his brother to go find Jon and now both wolves were leading him back to Robb.

The intelligence of Direwolves was something that would always amaze him.

Robb couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as he marched towards his brother.

Aegon smiled in response and met Robb in an embrace.

The two held themselves locked in a powerful hug for several long moments before separating.

"You look well Stark." Aegon offered.

"I expected your hair to be a bit lighter, your eyes to be a bit more violet. Must say I'm disappointed." Robb replied, earning a momentary look of surprise from Aegon before he let out a laugh.

"I didn't expect it to be a secret for long, but I must say I'm surprised you've heard about that." Aegon stated.

"The messenger you sent told me about a few rumors he'd heard around Winterfell, and on my way here, Howland Reed confirmed it. You remember the stories we use to hear about father's adventures, and how he was there at the Tower of Joy." Robb replied earning a nod of understanding from Aegon.

"Come, inside and out of this damp air. We've got a lot to discuss." Aegon offered, earning a nod of agreement from Robb.

The party quickly made their way to the great hall of Moat Cailin, where Robb, his mother, uncle, and wife, along with the various lords that had come with him including Greatjon Umber, Howland Reed, and Roose Bolton all gathered as well.

They all sat around one of the long tables in the hall, settling in for what would most likely be a long discussion.

"Where to start?" Aegon mused as everyone was seated.

"You may as well start at the beginning. Where did you learn the truth? What's this about you conquering the lands beyond the Wall and the Gift? What about this army of yours? All of it." Robb answered.

"Alright, well to start, I went to the Wall and decided to go exploring beyond it. I came across an orc hunting party, those creatures out there, some of them are called orcs, they make up the bulk of Lilith's followers. These orcs took me to the Lands of Always Winter, deep in the Far North. There I met their ruler, a mighty sorceress by the name of Lilith. We talked, she told me I had dragon's blood and wolf's blood. Even used her magic to show me a vision of my past, my birth. That's how I knew the truth. She had plans to invade Westoros but after learning the truth and seeing her army, I knew we couldn't beat her, so I decided to try and make her an offer. If I really was the crown prince of the Targaryen dynasty, then I would help her take Westoros. I would marry her, make her my queen and use my name to legitimize her conquest. In return she would allow me to handle the war as I saw fit, which made it possible for me to keep my family from being destroyed." Aegon began to explain.

"The messenger said you had fifty thousand men, or orcs." The Greatjon noted.

"Closer to eighty thousand actually, is my total force in the North. Though that includes the thousands I sent to repel the Ironborn, and the thousands I left to garrison Winterfell and help Bran restore the peace. Thousands more are on the Wall, and tens of thousands reside beyond it. Lilith has been preparing for this conquest for centuries. According to her she was alive during the Doom of Valyria, and has been building her army for at least that long. The forces I lead now, are just the vanguard." Aegon responded causing the room to go dead silent.

Maybe sixty or seventy thousand in this army alone, and it was only the vanguard of the true host. Such an army was near impossible to fathom. A force possibly over two-hundred thousand, or even far more. If he was telling the truth, then many could understand why he had doubted their chances in such a war.

"The boys are there though… they're in Winterfell and they're alright?" Catelyn asked, that being the issue she was more concerned with.

"Yes Lady Stark. Bran and Rickon are alright. They were kept safe by Osha and Hodor. Bran's back in his seat as Lord of Winterfell, and as a bonus, Lilith healed his legs. He's walking again." Aegon replied.

Catelyn let out a joyful sob at hearing that. Bran, up and walking again, even with his survival she had never hoped for such a thing.

"You asked her to help him, didn't you?" Robb inquired to his brother.

"I asked, but it was actually Uncle Benjen who asked if it could be done." Aegon replied earning a nod and a happy smile from Robb.

"Is Uncle Benjen here?" Robb asked.

"Yes. When I took command of Lilith's army I led them against the King-Beyond-the-Wall, Mance Rayder. I smashed the Wildlings against the Wall just as they were slipping past it. They swore their allegiance to me, bent the knee, and in return I gave them the Gift and the New Gift. Once I took the Wall I dispatched my forces to each of the castles on it, to repair them and refortify it. With the Far North under my command, and now the Wall and the Gift, the Night's Watch was no longer needed. I made them all an offer, to bend the knee and swear allegiance to me, and I'd absolve them of their oaths, and pardon them of their crimes. Uncle Benjen bent the knee and I did as I promised. He's now a free man, and serves as one of my advisers. I have no idea where he's run off to though. I sent someone to look for him and tell him you were here, but he might have gone out hunting." Aegon responded.

"So after you took the Wall you marched your army down to Winterfell and met with my son, and you retook Winterfell." Roose Bolton surmised.

"Yes Lord Bolton. Your son is quite the impressive fighter, and he's done well gathering information from Theon. I asked Ramsay to handle Theon's interrogation to gather information for my eventual conquests of the Iron Islands. He's got Theon convinced he's Ironborn as well, and is working on a way to help him escape." Aegon replied.

"I would have executed Theon immediately for his crimes, but you were wise to question him instead. Something there made him turn against us. Made him betray us. Maybe he saw what military might the Ironborn had and thought they could succeed. I don't know. I guess the only way we will know, is by getting the answer from him directly." Robb noted let out an angry sigh as he did.

"I was tempted to kill him. I executed the rest of the Ironborn that were with him, but I knew he was more valuable alive. He's Balon Greyjoy's only son and heir. Even if we never intend to release him, simply having him may serve as a useful bargaining chip when the time comes to deal with Balon. Even if it's only to stall the Greyjoy king while we set-up his downfall." Aegon stated, earning a nod of agreement from Robb.

"You're right, as much as I want him dead. He's valuable so long as Balon Greyjoy lives. I don't intend for him to see the light of day ever again though." Robb replied.

"He wont. You can count on that." Aegon agreed.

"So… you're goal is to retake the Iron Throne, but first you need the North." Robb finally directed the conversation towards the most sensitive of subjects.

"Lilith wants the world and she has the power, the drive, and the ambition to seize it. I think I can convince her to forget about the North until after the Iron Throne is taken, but eventually she'll want it added to our kingdom. In that regard there are two ways we can go about it that don't involve fighting. The first is that I convince you to bend the knee to me, I name you Warden in the North, and we march south together and go rescue Sansa and Arya and avenge our father. The second idea is that we agree to wed our children together. My children with Lilith, yours with your wife, and the kingdoms rejoin, and the seven are made seven. By that point in time, you and I will be old men, and well Lilith gets what she wants, because she'll still be young and youthful, as she claims to not age. Lilith wants to rule the world, titles don't matter to her. So as long as she holds some form of dominion over the lands, it doesn't matter what she's called. So either we handle this now, or we handle it later, but those are our two options to avoid a war in the North. I'd like to think she has affection for me, Robb, but I also know she'll outlive me, so even if I can convince her to allow the North to be independent, that agreement ends upon my death. At that point she'll have her own army, and the other kingdoms and no reason not to attack the North to get what she wants. So… that's where we stand." Aegon explained, again spreading silence throughout the room.

Robb leaned forward and thought on Aegon's explanation.

An immortal sorceress who wanted to conquer the world. She had a huge army, filled with monsters, beasts, and dragons. That was a great threat, and one that the North couldn't face alone. Fighting wasn't an option, not in their current state, hell not even at full strength. Jon's army alone was enough to overwhelm the North, but it was only a small portion of the total. No, fighting was not going to work. They'd lose, if it came to that.

And despite Jon's worry, this Lilith couldn't be all bad if she was willing to heal Bran's legs. There was a debt owed there, one that needed to be repaid, and while Bran alone wasn't worth a kingdom, the act of healing him, did help to settle the mind in regards to the woman herself. When King Torrhen Stark had knelt to Aegon three centuries ago, he had done so to an unknown. All the northerners knew about Aegon Targaryen was that he was a conqueror, he had dragons, and he wasn't afraid to use them.

The scorched earth along the road added to the belief that there were dragons in this army, and they would use them.

"Do you truly believe she could take Westoros with her army?" Robb asked.

"I do. I saw her kingdom in the Lands of Always Winter. A massive fortress that puts even the likes of the legendary Harrenhal to shame. A single Great Dragon she sent south with us, but she has half a dozen more waiting in that place, and each one of them is as large as Balerion the Black Dread. She has massive fire spirits serving her, giants, the beasts you've seen, even the dead seem to bend to her will. The flesh and blood of her army is enough to conquer Westoros, the raw power of her magic, goes far beyond that." Aegon responded with a heavy sigh, earning a quiet nod from Robb.

"Than it would seem you made a wise choice in allying with her." Robb noted after a few moments.

"I didn't want to see her armies wash across the North and destroy everything that I love." Aegon admitted.

"A wise king knows when he must fight for his people, and when he must kneel for them. Before I make my decisions, there are two things I need to see. One is the army you've brought with you, and the other is the woman herself. If she is to be your queen, then I would know the other half to which I kneel." Robb stated, earning a nod of understanding from Aegon.

"Well, luckily both can happen here. Allow me to show you the army I've gathered." Aegon replied.

From there the group left the great hall and moved through the castle towards the northern walls. They spotted quite the amalgamation of various creatures, just passing through the castle. Orc, uruks, spiders, wargs, caragors, olegs, wildlings, men, all united under this dark queen. They even passed by the makeshift pens that held the Karstark men, many of whom, upon spotting Robb either began to call out to him, begging for mercy or they began to cower, sensing their imminent executions.

Robb sent a stern but pitying glance towards these men, regardless of their actions, they were still northerners, and to see them so frightened and shaken after one battle, the terror of this army must have been otherworldly if it could leave hardened soldiers so broken.

The group eventually climbed atop the northernmost wall, and took in a sight that had been obscured to their vision upon the Causeway. There before them was a sea of tents and makeshift structures. Tens of thousands of orc, uruks, and olegs busied themselves with work.

Robb stared out over the army, his wife by his side. The young lady could only gasp at the size of the massive force. Edmure Tully had to lean on the edge of the wall to steady himself at the sight of the massive force.

"By the gods, fuck." The Greatjon muttered in disbelief.

"My Queen." Aegon noted, nodding his head towards an awe-inspiring sight. High in the sky, descending towards the castle was Midir.

Startled gasps, emerged from Robb's group as the titanic beast, slowed it's descent and landed with a loud boom, just outside the eastern edge of the castle. From their position they could see a small dark figure stepping off the dragon's back and strolling across it's thick leathery wing which was arched in such a way as to allow her to stroll across it right onto the wall.

"Shall we go and meet her?" Robb suggested turning his gaze to Aegon, after taking a moment to recover from the sight of the dragon.

"She's already here." Aegon replied.

Robb turned his gaze back and nearly let out a cry of fright, as the dark lady was now standing several feet from them, rather than across the castle.

He blinked several times as he tried to regain his bearings.

"How the fuck did you do that?" Greatjon muttered disbelief.

"Would saying 'magic' be sufficient enough?" Lilith inquired in response.

"Fuck..." The Greatjon muttered, obviously unnerved by what he'd just seen.

"King Robb, it's nice to finally meet you. I am Morgoth, High Lord of Tantibus Arcis, Queen of the Far North and the Land of Always Winter, Queen of Fire, Shadow, and Winter. You may address me as Lilith." Lilith replied, her tone cool and even.

Robb blinked several times as he took in her words and the sight of her. She was truly beautiful there was no doubt about that, but there was an edge to her, something terrifying and horrific. Like an underlying threat that he couldn't escape.

He couldn't explain it, this Lilith terrified him, almost to the point where he began shaking, and he could not explain it. A quick glance towards his wife revealed her staring wide eyed at the lady of darkness, fearful, but not nearly as afraid as he was.

A quick glance to the rest of his family revealed to him that they were all in much the same position. They were afraid, but not as afraid as he was. For some reason, while they were unnerved, and even a bit fearful, he was terrified of her.

Eventually his gaze passed to Jon. When their eyes met, Jon offered the slightest of nods, as if to say 'Now you know what I feel.'

"Queen Lilith..." Robb began after composing himself. "This is quite the impressive army you've built."

"It's only a small portion of it. Little more than a finger, pressing upon my foes." Lilith responded with a demure smile as she turned her gaze out over her army.

"Before we begin our discussion I would like to thank you for what you did for my brother. We held no hope that he would ever walk again. Thank you for giving him his old life back." Robb offered to her.

"Your Brother is powerful King Stark, very powerful. He's both a Skin-changer and a Greenseer. A unique combination. He has near limitless potential. If you wish to see me repaid for my generosity, see to it that his potential is not squandered. Such magics are rare in this world, and they are a blessing, and should be treated as such." Lilith responded, earning confusion from Robb and Catelyn, though Howland Reed offered a small nod of understanding that seemingly went unnoticed.

"What does that mean?" Robb asked.

"He can control animals, and has visions of the past, present, and future. It's rare gift, believed to stem from the First Men who bred with the Children of the Forest. It sometimes appears in certain bloodlines though these children are usually left to die. There are skinchangers beyond the Wall, they make useful scouts, as they can control animals and use them to spy on their foes, much like how I assume the Children of the Forest did so long ago." Aegon offered, in response.

"Are these abilities dangerous, will they hurt him?" Catelyn asked quickly.

"Some, especially those that prescribe to the Faith of the Seven may seek to harm him due to his magic, though otherwise, he is in no great danger from such powers. His biggest threat is confusion. So often those with such gifts, lose their minds because they do not understand what is happening to them. Bran is in no danger from such things, as long as he can control himself and understand what he is doing." Lilith responded to her.

Catelyn seemed placated by her response, though still uneasy. Aegon noted everyone's reaction to her words, and took notice of the way the small Lord of House Reed, listened closely, yet showed little surprise or confusion. Aegon kept silent but suspected he may know something more.

"Let us return to the great hall. We have much to discuss I'm sure." Lilith offered.

And they did just that. Upon their return to the Great Hall, discussion began about what bending the knee to Aegon and Lilith would entail.

Aegon explained that he and Lilith would soon be married, Lilith even emphasized at that point that they would most likely have a small ceremony before attacking the south to solidify their union, and position. While this was news to all of them, including Aegon, he didn't disagree, and had no problem with marrying her sooner rather than later. With that being established, if Robb and Edmure ben the knee their kingdoms would be granted to them. Robb would hold dominion over the North and Edmure the Riverlands.

Robb would take the title of Warden of the North, and Lord of Winterfell, while Edmure would remain the Lord of Riverrun and the Lord of the Riverlands, and Lord Paramount of the Trident. Both men would be free to operate their kingdoms as they saw fit, though a few changes would be made. For instance, each kingdom would receive the military power of the crown, to keep them safe, as well as the right to raise their own armies, under the condition that they paid their taxes to the crown. So long as taxes were paid, they were free to basically do as they wished, and would have the right to not only defend themselves, but have the protection of the crown as well.

Their taxes would take the form form of whatever they could spare in plenty. Whether it be furs or timber from the North, food from the Riverlands, gold, silver, or even soldiers for the royal army. Whatever they had in plenty, could be used to pay their taxes, and the crown would find a use for it. If the North could only pay in timber, the crown would find someone who needed it. They did not require just gold, or just food, or just weapons. Everything had a value, and the crown would find a use for it.

Such an offer would make it much easier for these various lords to pay their taxes as they need only find what their kingdom had in abundance and use that while keeping rarer and more precious resources as for trade. It was actually an intelligent way of keeping the crown itself very rich. As they would accept resources as payment, in lieu of gold or silver, and the crown would either use these resources for various project saving themselves money, or they could sell them to the kingdoms that needed them.

It ensured that the kingdoms themselves had money to buy and trade with each other, and the crown was not only receiving resources but could also sell or use those resources to make their own profits.

Aside from the issue of taxes, all of the kingdoms would be free to trade with anyone who was not an enemy of the crown, and the crown would not even enforce an additional tax on any ports owned by the various kingdoms, such a thing would be left in the hands of the lords of those kingdoms.

Men were free to believe in whatever they so choose, so long as their faith didn't cause problems for the crown. This offer was put forth by Aegon and Lilith, with both knowing full well that the people would slowly be converted to worshiping them as gods, over time.

Aside from that, one of the major changes was that each great lord would now play host to a royal force in their kingdom. This royal host would remain on standby within each kingdom, offering training, handling patrols, and carrying out arrests in the name of the crown, and the lord or lady of the kingdom, and each of these forces would be paid for by the crown itself. Meaning it was free protection, with the offer of skilled teachers for whatever forces said kingdom wished to raise.

For instance say this force in the north raised a keep along the White Knife. That royal force would assist the lord of Winterfell with keeping the peace, and as a royal army, it would only answer to the ruler of the Kingdom, and to the crown itself. These royal forces would not only keep the peace and secure each kingdom, but they would ensure that no matter how powerful a kingdom got, they would never be capable of attacking another.

This ensured that the kingdoms were unable to fight with each other, because while they were perfectly free to build their own armies, and make them as massive as they wanted too, they weren't going to be attacking anyone, until they dealt with the royal forces within their own lands, meaning there would be no more surprise attacks like the Ironborn Rebellion, and no more civil wars. This time, the Targaryen Dynasty was going to secure the entire continent and ensure that no rebellions happened again.

Lord Edmure took the opportunity to inquire how such a royal army would be maintained by the crown itself, as maintaining any sort of longstanding army was difficult, most notably keeping them fed. Aegon made sure to cringe as this question was asked as Lilith smirked, he definitely needed to appear unsettled by the answer that he knew she would give.

The simplest answer was that orcs actually didn't need to eat, they were twisted and vile creatures sustained by her magic, but she didn't tell them that. In fact most people weren't aware the orcs didn't actually need to eat, in fact most orcs weren't aware that they didn't need to eat. They felt hunger, and they could eat, and in fact the longer they were hungry the worse it got for them, almost like a chronic pain that would drive them mad over time, but it didn't kill them, and orcs were basically ravenous and mindless to begin with, in many a case. What an orc was fed, and how well it was fed often depicted it's lineage.

If an orc ate regularly, then it's children would be orcs as well and generally the cycle would continue. If orcs did not eat regularly and starved more often then not, they became frail and lithe, and became the creatures often referred to as goblins. These were still orcs, just thin, light, frail orcs. The opposite would happen for Uruks, if an orc ate plenty of meat and got a lot of exercise, and his descendants did the same, they'd grow large, strong, tall and muscular.

Orcs bred in two ways. They either had sex with those they could breed with, such as each other, or humans, or they were grown from vats, or great muddy pits in the earth. These pits were actually great magical rituals that drew in souls or perhaps pieces of souls from those that tied and fused them together in the muck and earth, they essentially grew in pods in this muck which would float to the surface of the pit and be opened by the pit keepers, thus a new orc was created, and this orc could go on breeding with other orcs.

The issue was that this always created a middle of the line orc, not too strong, not too weak. So it wasn't as useful as selective breeding to create the stronger Uruks.

With all of that in mind, it still meant that the orcs didn't need to eat, but food helped keep them strong, orcs also didn't die of old age, they definitely began to wither as time passed, but so did elves, in essence the orcs were essentially very long lived as there were some, not a lot, but some that were alive during Morgoth's reign that were still around today.

Still, due to their hunger, they'd usually feast quite heartily whenever the chance arrived. And if the hunger grew to great, they'd begin eating each other.

Lilith's answer to his question was that the didn't require much in the way of food when not in battle, and if need be, they had ways of keeping themselves fed. So that would help to keep costs quite low. The way she answered, obviously unnerved the Riverlord, but he accepted it none the less.

Aegon was just happy she didn't go into too gruesome of detail.

Needless to say these were just the first changes that Aegon and Lilith planned to implement and they both were naturally ready for the resistance that would come with such things.

Surprisingly, both Robb and Edmure approved of their direction, though for their own reasons.

For Robb, his approval stemmed from the fact that every king and queen before them had simply forgotten about the North and left it alone to it's own devices. No bonds were formed, no alliances really cemented, the North was just left alone, which meant the Northern lords never really felt like they were involved in anything. Having a royal presence in the North, and having connections to the crown opened up the ability for the North to actually be involved in Westoros and actually have a voice going forward.

Edmure liked the idea of a royal army present in the Riverlands because it dissuaded the other kingdoms from using the Riverlands as their battlefield. So often the Riverlands were set on fire by one army or another and they felt the pain while armies fought. Having the protection of the crown to dissuade feuding kingdoms from fighting there would be a great boon.

And add onto that, both men approved of this removal of power plays between various lords. With the crown actively policing the kingdoms, the various lords could no longer engage in petty conflicts with one another that would lead to war.

For example if the Reach got into a fight with the North and stopped trading food with them, the crown could simply demand food as payment from the Reach and sell it to the North. If the Reach refused to pay, then suddenly they'd be forced to deal with the army and fortified force already within their own lands. This fortified force could easily hold the individual kingdoms at bay for long enough for a royal army to be gathered outside of the kingdom to quell the dispute.

It was a deterrent for future conflicts. Both Edmure and Robb wanted to avoid future conflicts and weren't overly interested in the political pissing matches of the other southern lords.

Both of them did take the time to note that such plans would not go over well with the southern lords, especially those that were used to getting their own way.

This earned a chuckle from Aegon, that was rather dark, and foreboding. He offered the two men a dark look as he smirked and responded that he'd done all of this to keep his family safe. That meant the North, and due to lady Catelyn, the Riverlands. Maybe the Eyrie would be counted as well, that would entirely depend on Lysa Arryn's actions. Outside of those people, Aegon didn't care about the rest. The Iron Islands, the Westerlands, the Reach, the Crownlands, the Stormlands, and Dorne, all were meaningless to him. He was ready to engage each and every one in total war, if that's what it took to bring them in line.

Whether they agreed with policy changes or not, they would be brought to heel, regardless.

Robb and Edmure offered their agreement with that sentiment.

Soon discussions began winding down and the time approached for Robb and Edmure to make their decisions. It wasn't difficult to decide, the two had a plan, they had power, they had a massive army, and without their help, the North and the Riverlands, may just lose the war. Securing a lasting peace under the rule of the Targaryens, once more was an enticing idea. Even more so, despite not being his true son, Ned Stark had raised Aegon to be a Stark. He may be half dragon, but he was of the North, and he held Northern ideals.

It was Robb who knelt first, but Edmure followed soon after. Both Lords swearing their fealty to Aegon Targaryen and his soon to be wife. The surrounding handful of lords cheered their agreement, it was a quick, quiet, and rather plain ceremony.

Aegon was quick to command both men to rise, confirming them as lords, and confirming their titles as well under his rule. Now four territories were held by the two dark lords.

The Far North, the Gift, the North, and the Riverlands.

In one swift move, they now held most of Westoros, and the true war had yet to begin.

"I will be worthy of your service my lords. I promise." Aegon offered to them, earning firm nods from both.

"So… shall we begin discussing how we're going to crush those Lannister pricks?" The Greatjon inquired.

"In time. Before then we must secure the Riverlands. In order to do that, I need to know what happened at the Twins. Why did you have to avoid them?" Aegon responded, directing his question to Robb who let out a sigh at that and internally cursed.

"I had to march my army across the Green Fork. Walder Frey would not let us pass unless I made concessions to him. One of those concessions was that I marry one of his daughters." Robb answered, a bit of shame entering into his voice.

"And you are no Frey?" Lilith inquired to Jeyne.

"No, your grace. My name is Jeyne of house Westerling." The young woman responded.

"So you fell in love, and broke your promise." Aegon concluded with a sigh.

"I did, and I'm sorry. I'll do what I can to make amends with Walder Frey so that this doesn't impede our campaign. I promise." Robb replied, taking full responsibilities for his actions.

"Were this some time ago, I may be more disappointed. I didn't want us to have to unleash this army upon our own countrymen, but the Karstarks forced our hand already. We'll march to the Twins and demand Walder Frey swear fealty, if he refuses, we'll sack the castle, and lay low his family." Aegon replied, appearing less enthusiastic about dealing with a rogue Riverlord, than their southern enemies.

Aegon was trying to paint the impression that while he felt either hatred or apathy for their foes in the south, he wasn't going to enjoy having to fight their own men, even though he actually did enjoy slaughtering the Karstarks for their words against Lilith.

"Do not let it bother you Lord Stark, you were a King, and a King is only answerable to gods and his people. The Freys lost the right to consider themselves as such when they broke their oaths and abandoned their lord." Lilith stated, earning looks from everyone.

"What do you mean? Lord Frey hasn't broken any oaths." Robb replied.

"Is he not sworn to house Tully?" Lilith inquired with a curious tilt of her head.

"He is." Edmure responded.

"And did he abandon his liege lord in the middle of a war after Lord Stark married his wife?" Lilith continued.

"He did, but his actions were understandable..." Edmure began, but stopped himself.

"This is what we're trying to put a stop to, lord Edmure. He's upset with Robb, and so he abandons his rightful liege lord, who is sworn to the King in the North. You were not the one who broke any vows, you are the lord of the house he has sworn to serve and instead of doing so despite his grievances with the King, he abandons his lord to possibly die. That is desertion and oath-breaking. Their actions are understandable in the context of the Starks, but not the Tullys. He abandoned you Lord Edmure, and because of that, I'll give him exactly one chance to swear fealty to me. He will throw open his gates, swear his men to my cause, and aid me to the fullest of his abilities, or I will set his family line to the torch and show the Freys that they are no great House, and are little more than upjumped toll collectors." Aegon responded, his gaze smoldering darkly.

"We should have done it the first time he tried to stop us." The Greatjon muttered, earning a nod of agreement from Roose Bolton.

"Prepare your men, we march south in three days. We will bring the Freys to heel, and reunite our forces. Once done, we will purge the Riverlands of any remaining Lannisters, and prepare for our attack on the South." Aegon commanded, earning resolute nods from all.

This moment would mark the start of their true conquest. The war for the Iron Throne would begins now.

**\- To Be Continued -**

_**Alright, here's the next chapter for everyone, plenty more fighting to be had next chapter, hope you all enjoy.**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**Alright, here's the next chapter for you guys. Hope everyone is staying safe.**_

**Darkness Reborn**

Chapter 12: The Cold Dread.

"Dany please!" She remembered her brother's desperate cries as he was dragged out of the tent. She remembered clear as day the threat in her brother's eyes as he pointed his sword at her pregnant belly and threatened to end the life of her child, if her husband did not give him what he wanted.

Khal Drogo had been able to settle Viserys by telling him he'd get all that he desired. This seemed to placate her brother but the moment he let his guard down, some of her husband's men, grabbed Viserys and broke his arm.

As her husband approached her to ensure she was alright, she locked eyes with him, and for the briefest of moments, pity filled her gaze. She pitied what her brother had become, she pitied how far he'd fallen from the boy she used to know. The feeling had vanished almost as soon as it formed, but her husband had obviously noticed it, and it was due to that pity, that Viserys' death became something far more painful.

Her husband saw that some part of her still cared for her brother, and thus he saw Viserys' actions as even more of a betrayal. Khal Drogo ordered his men to break Viserys' limbs and then ride him out to somewhere far away from Vaes Dothrak. They were then to leave him there, where he would lay, unable to move with all of his limbs broken. With any luck he'd survive for three days before dying of dehydration.

It felt like a lifetime since then. Daenerys Targaryen sometimes couldn't help but wonder in quiet moments what her brother's final moments were like? Did he actually survive that long? Was he attacked by some sort of carnivorous beast? Was he found by another wandering Khalasar and could that mean he possibly survived? Did her late husband's man, simply slit his throat once outside of the city and leave him to be devoured by the vultures? Unfortunately, she'd never know.

It was the last time she'd seen him, and it was the last time she had felt anything other than contempt and displeasure at the thought of him.

She was broken out of her thoughts as the doors to the audience chamber opened and the first of her many subjects began to enter.

She glanced to her side, earning a look from her handmaiden and interpreter Missandei, whom had obviously noticed her spacing out earlier.

Daenerys smiled and brushed it off, and glanced to her other side, where Ser Barristan Selmy stood, ever vigilant. A few feet below her, sitting on the steps, and staring down at the entering smallfolk, was her occasional lover Daario Naharis, he was halfheartedly twirling his favorite dagger between his fingers, keeping to himself. A rarity for him, as he was usually trying to do something to impress her. Most likely he had taken note of her disinterest earlier and was keeping himself amused until she was more receptive.

With a gesture, she began her daily ritual of tending to the needs of her subjects.

The day carried on as many others had, and every hour that went by without a report of a murder in the streets due to the Sons of the Harpy, Daenerys counted as a blessing.

It was closing in on time for her midday meal and despite the looks she kept receiving from her beloved best friend and handmaiden, Daenerys chose to hear from one last group.

Before her, a clutch of figures were led forward, numbering five in total. The one who led them was a man, dark of complexion, with silver facial piercing in his lips, his nose, and even his eyebrows. Upon his face were strange tattoos painted in reds and oranges. He was a large man, standing a head taller than most others in the room, he was broad and muscular and his eyes were black and hard. Those by his side were harder to see, each one covered in hooded cloaks. They were small, and sickly appearing, hunched, squat, and bowlegged. From beneath their hoods, Daenerys could see that each of the four held discolored skin, a dark mucky green, that she had never seen in a man before.

From the creature's jawline she could see it's pointed features, and sharp teeth jutting out of a small mouth. It's lips were a blotchy purple in color, and when it glanced up at her, Daenerys spotted wide, inhumanly big, yellow eyes.

The sight of the creatures behind the tall man unnerved her, and it obviously set her guards on edge as they too noticed the creatures.

"Greetings, Queen Daenerys of Meereen." The Tall man began, his voice a low baritone, that came from deep within his chest.

"Welcome friend. Your accent does not mark you a local." Daenerys began, noting that he sounded like he had come from western Essos, given his way of speech and his use of the common tongue. Despite his coloring, he didn't sound like he was from around Slaver's Bay.

"I do not hail from these lands, Queen Daenerys. I am Juro Tehelis, Captain of the Viper's Claw. I sail the seas in honor of the Dread Lord of Arcem Ossa." Juro responded.

Daenerys gave a curious look to her handmaiden, uncertain of what Arcem Ossa was.

"Arcem Ossa is said to be a fortress birthed from the ruins of Old Valyria. Sailors speak of a mysterious fortress rising above the smoking sea, one that overlooks the peninsula there and lures sailors to their doom in attempts to reach it. No one knows for certain who lives there, but I have known my masters on previous occasions to sell slaves, weapons, armor, and even ships to sailors who claim to come from the Fortress." Missandei reported earning a nod from Daenerys. She hadn't ever heard of this fortress before, and that it lay in the ruins of old Valyria was incredibly fascinating to hear. She wondered if the people there had any connection to the Valyrians, or if they were simply pirates and sailors who managed to find and hold a small chunk of the peninsula?

"I've fought against men from there before. Soldiers claiming to serve the Dread Lord. Good fighters, vicious. They often buy up Unsullied from Astapor and train them in the use of long pikes, and great round shields, like your men only bigger tools." Daario noted.

"To what do I owe your arrival, sea captain? If you've come looking for slaves, you will find none here." Daenerys inquired.

"We do not come for slaves. The Dread Lord commanded that we come and offer terms of territory, and trade to Meereen's new queen. This great city holds many wonders, and valuable resources, beyond it's lowly offerings of flesh. We would like to maintain trade with the city, though my master is more concerned with recent events pertaining to your sacking of Astapor and Yunkai. He wishes to extend an olive branch, in the hopes that our two peoples do not come into conflict with each other." Juro offered, withdrawing a sealed parchment from his robes and offering them to the nearest Unsullied.

The soldier glanced at Daenerys, whom offered a nod to him. He retrieved the parchment and marched it up to her, offering it to her with a bow.

"Your Dread Lord wishes to avoid conflict? Not exactly the kind of thing one expects to hear when you have the title of 'Dread Lord'." Daenerys noted as she passed the parchment to Ser Barristan for him to read, as she continued to eye the sailor with curiosity.

"My Lord is no mad dog. He will not wage war against every person in the world. Daenerys Targaryen is a name chanted in the streets by the people, someone beloved by the lowliest, and admired by the highest born. My lord does not wish to have to destroy you, or your noble cause, and wishes to be clear on where he stands if you decide to keep marching west. If you make any moves towards his territory, he will respond in kind, and your Unsullied and mercenaries will meet a true foe on the battlefield. But my master wishes to avoid such business, and expresses hope that when the time comes for Daenerys Targaryen to sail west, that she leaves her gentle heart behind, and treads not where she is not wanted." Juro responded, his gaze hardening as a smirk touched at Daenerys' lips.

"I have defeated the masters of Slaver's Bay and outlawed slavery here. If your master wishes no trouble from me, he would be wise to accept the change in the way of things. I have seen the cruelty inflicted onto the slaves of these lands, and I do not wish to see such acts perpetrated further." Daenerys replied, her tone tempered and direct, with only the slightest hint of superiority, just enough to earn a smirk from Daario whom stared down at Juro, just waiting for the man to make the wrong move.

"You have managed three victories against pitiful slave armies. Your soldiers have won no great battles, and last I heard, Astapor and Yunkai had fallen under new leadership since your departure to Meereen. What you've accomplished young queen is a momentary hiccup in the world. It is no great change. It is no revolution. The strong will dominate the weak as they always have. From what I've heard your own city has seen it's fair share of chaos and rebellion. You beat three foes, who were stuck in their ways, and unable to change. None of these cities held great leaders, nor true armies. All you have done, is wipe away the old masters, and paved the way for chaos to birth new ones. You are no great queen, nor are you a conqueror. You're just a little girl, that got lucky. Turn your gaze towards Arcem Ossa, and your luck will vanish. Enjoy the benefits of our cooperation until you return to Westoros. And remember, when you do decide to go home, to keep your eyes on the west. If they turn to Valyria, we will show you the true meaning, of fire and blood." Juro stated, absent fear, absent concern, absent uncertainty. His gaze was hard, and carried with it an ominous dread to it.

Daenerys stared down at the man, admiring his brazen foolishness, but his words were nothing she hadn't heard before. The masters of Yunkai and Meereen had both felt the same in regards to her conquests, if this 'dread lord' of old Valyria, wished to make the same mistake, she would let him.

"Do not allow your pride to lead you on a path to your doom. Your ancestors were nothing more than a minor noble house amongst the Valyrians. And they fled in terror upon the encroaching Doom. The heart of the destruction of your kind, now lies in our control. Temp fate, and find the Targaryen line extinguished by a flame so hot, even dragons melted in its tempest." Juro added, turning his gaze away from her, and leading his troop away.

The creatures at his back let out sickening little cackles, that sounded almost childish if not for the curdling bloodthirsty hunger that seemed to accompany it.

As Juro marched away, he felt a presence that drew him to a halt. He turned his gaze to the side, past the unsullied and into the shadows behind them. He stared deep into these shadows for several long moments, before suddenly letting out a growl and beginning to back away, walking backwards, back towards the bottom of the stairs.

A few quiet seconds passed as his troop of small creatures let out vicious shrieks as a figure stepped out of the shadows and into the light.

"The Dread Lord of Arcem Ossa, is that what it is calling itself now?" A voice came into the hall, filling the air in an unnatural way, the voice could only be coming from the hooded figure that stepped from the shadows behind the unsullied and stood in the path leading out of the chamber.

It was an odd movement, as from his position, the unsullied on the opposite side of the room should have seen him, but they only reacted when he stepped out into view.

Those closest to him raised their spears and shields, surrounding the unknown man as he strode forward, towards the pirates.

This man was old, older than Ser Barristan. His face was heavily wrinkled and his nose was long and curved. Despite his old and worn appearance, the man's eyes were vibrant, and his gaze was powerful. He had the bluest eyes Daenerys had ever seen. He was short, hunched, and leaned heavily on a staff to keep him upright. He had a white beard and mustache that grew long, and fell down to below his waist. The man was draped in several layers of dark blue robes, his outermost layer being a deep blue, hooded robe, and his hood when pulled up, let to a long point. At his side the man carried a large satchel filled with various items poking out of it.

The only other noticeable feature of the man, was his boots, which were heavily worn, indicating that he had been traveling for quite some time.

"Who are you?" Daenerys asked as her unsullied surrounded the man. The old man showed them little concern as he stepped into the middle of the room and stared up at her.

"You may call me Rómestámo. I have come here to this ancient city to offer you aid, Daenerys Targaryen. You are going to need it, if you hope to survive." The old man responded, his eyes locked onto Juro and his orcs.

"You snuck into these chambers, to offer me your assistance?" Daenerys began, as she sensed the growing air of hostility between the pirate captain and the strange old man.

"I did. I would have waited in line, but when I saw the enemy coming in to speak with you, I had to know what they were here for. Unfortunately, you've earned their attention. If they haven't already, they will be preparing to attack Meereen and destroy your army." Rómestámo responded dryly, earning a hard look of concern from Barristan, while Daenerys rose to her feet, concern and suspicion filling her gaze.

Juro let out a snarl at that, and drew a hidden dagger from his robes, as did his orcs.

All of the unsullied instantly raised their guard at the sight of the weapons, those closest to Daenerys formed a wall at the base of the steps leading up to her, while the rest surrounded the old man and the pirates.

"You were unwise to come here, old man." Juro hissed before motioning to his orcs.

With a shriek the vile creatures rushed forward. To the amazement of all in the room, the old man reacted with impossible swiftness, lashing out with his staff, drilling it hard into the side of the first orc's head, killing it instant with a skull cracking blow.

The old man quickly advanced, blocking a swipe from the second orc, and quickly striking it in the gut with his staff sending it stumbling back.

The next fell to a similar blow, while the fourth circled around the old man and tried to come at him from behind while he engaged the former two.

With incredible swiftness, the old man spun around and jabbed his staff at the incoming orc like a spear, releasing a wave of pale gray light that sent the orc flying back. It flew hard and struck one of the pillars with a sickening crack. It fell to the ground lifeless after that.

By the time the old man turned back around, Juro was on him lashing out with his own knife. The old man quickly backpedaled and avoided the slashes. He was finally able to retaliate when the knife-wielding pirate over extended during a slash. With a swift strike to the side of the head, Juro fell to his knees.

The two still living orcs rushed back him, but were quickly struck down by the old man's staff, one with a blow that shattered it's ribs, and the second with a strike to the neck which broke it.

The battle was over in less than a minute, and the old man let out a huff as he began to approach the kneeling ship captain.

"You were unwise to come here." Juro muttered as he spat blood onto the ground.

"Perhaps, but I will know of your master's plan. Speak!" The old man demanded, pointing his staff at Juro, causing him to arch his back painfully as if he was being bent by some unseen force.

"What the hell is this?" Daario muttered to Ser Barristan, both of whom had their weapons drawn and were standing guard before Daenerys.

Ser Barristan could only shake his head in response, watching the situation carefully.

"You don't get it do you, you old fool! Your time is done, Darkness shall reign!" Juro roared, as his eyes began to light up, and his tattoos began to glow.

Everyone watched in amazement as this happened. It was like a fire had erupted within the man, his eyes glowed orange, his tattoos began to shine like flame, and smoke began to flow out of his mouth, ears, and eyes.

Slowly, Juro rose to his feet and the old man took several steps back, fear flashing in his shining blue eyes.

"**You were unwise to come here. The kingdoms of men shall fall! Darkness shall reign!"** A hellish voice billowed out from the pirate's mouth. It was a sound that caused many in the room to immediately cry out in fear. Missandei's hands went to her ears and she started to scream, Daario fell back again the stairs shaking, as terror overwhelmed his senses, Barristan Selmy nearly dropped his sword as his body froze and he found his hands trembling. Daenerys felt her blood begin to burn at the sound of this hellish voice. Something about it lit a literal flame in her veins and it caused her to physically double over in pain.

The only ones who seemed unaffected were the unsullied, they remained stone-faced and detached from any concerns towards their own safety. They had no fear of death, or pain, they worshiped it, in fact, it was life for them, and due to this, they remained upright, with little more than a sinking of the gut, to show that they were still affected by this like everyone else.

"It is you who shall fall servant of The Accursed! The kingdoms of men shall not fall to you!" The old man shouted in response, his voice booming and seemingly pushing back the terror in the room. Barristan felt his grip steady and Daario was able to pull himself back onto his feet.

A hellish chant began to froth forth from Juro's mouth, the voice not his own. What words were said was unknown, but the tongue caused everyone's ears to begin to burn, as if hot water had been poured within them.

The room seemed to darken, the sunlight coming in from the windows was seemingly pushed back as the shadows of the room, grew and deepened in their blackness.

As this chant proceeded, Juro's veins began to glow, like fire was running within them. His eyes suddenly burst as flames erupted from his sockets. His chant did not cease, even as flames began to erupt from his mouth and his skin began to burn. Soon his clothes caught aflame, but his chants did not cease.

"Go back to the abyss, foul creature!" Rómestámo growled, leveling his staff at Juro.

The chanting grew louder, Daenerys had fallen off of her seat and was curling up in the fetal position clutching at her chest. The fire in her veins had spread to her heart, and it felt like she was burning alive from the inside.

"Go back! The kingdoms of men shall not fall!" Romestamo shouted, driving his staff hard into Juro's chest, causing his body to explode in a shower of flame and ash. A haunting roar of rage tore through the room at this, causing even the unsullied to back away at it's intensity and wrath.

Silence filled the room then, Daario and Ser Barristan stared down in amazement at the sight of the man now turned to ash. It wasn't long before the shadows of the room returned to their natural state. The moment they did, Missandei's screams of fear could be heard. Both men spun around finding Missandei on the ground, covering her ears trying to block out the horrible noise, and they also spotted Daenerys, hyperventilating as the pain in her body receded.

Both men quickly raced up to her, and knelt next to her, Daario reached out to touch her, but pulled his hand back as he found himself burned by the heat of her flesh.

He and Barristan shared a look of amazement with each other, as Daenerys' breathing slowed, and she began to regain her senses.

"She is recovering, that is good. I've never seen such a reaction before, but then again, she is unique." Both men heard Rómestámo say. They glanced down the steps to find him standing before the unsullied shield wall staring up at them.

"What has happened to her?" Barristan demanded as he rose to his feet.

"The dread of the Balrog has seemingly invaded her very flesh. I know not how it was done, but the effects seem to be fading. She should recover presently, as should the other girl as well. She needs only to a few moments to settle down." Rómestámo replied, his breathing deep, his age showing as he leaned heavily on his staff.

The room remained silent for several moments as Missandei ceased her screaming and began to quiet down. She remained shaking even as Daario helped her sit up.

Slowly Daenerys began to recover as well, her focus returned and she was able to pull herself to her feet with the help of Ser Barristan. The old knight noted as he helped her to her feet that the heat of her body had faded, but it was still hot enough to be uncomfortable to the touch.

"What was that?" Daenerys demanded, turning her amethyst gaze down towards the blue wizard.

"A Balrog, your grace. The Dread Lord of Arcem Ossa, as it refers to itself now. That man was an acolyte of some sort. A close servant. Those tattoos acted as a sort of runic pathway that allowed the Balrog to possess him. As you can see, it's power far outweighed what a mortal body can withstand." Rómestámo responded, glancing back at the pile of ash with concern in his eyes.

"You've made yourself a dangerous enemy by freeing the slaves of these lands. This demon will not take kindly to you getting in the way of it's plans. I have no doubt that it sends forward that amicable offer you hold, just to give you the impression that it was just like every other enemy you've faced. It intends to lull you into a false sense of security, before it attacks. You'd do well to raise your patrols, and examine all those who enter your city. There's no telling how many orcs have already infiltrated this city's underbelly and are waiting for the moment to crawl out of the muck and raise all kinds of hell." The old man continued after a few moments as he turned and began to walk over to the body of one of the dead orcs.

"You know of these creatures, and the monster that puppets men? You know of this thing that may seek our queen's life?" Ser Barristan inquired, sharing a glance with Daenerys.

"I do. I fought against it long ago, during the War of Wrath. And now I stand in the service of the kingdoms of men, in the war against it, and those that share in it's vile nature." Rómestámo responded, turning his gaze back up to them.

"I would hear what he has to say your grace." Ser Barristan whispered to her.

"As would I." Daenerys agreed, her eyes locked on the pile of ash, and her memory vividly replaying the nightmarish terror that bellowed out from within the man it had once been.

A few short minutes later, and Daenerys and her council were gathered within the audience chamber. Those that hadn't been present for the incident were informed of what happened, and some now stood over the orcs, examining their twisted features.

"This is the last time I go absent from such audiences." Strong Belwas muttered, poking at the body of one of the orcs.

"I feel much the same." Greyworm growled out, his eyes dancing from the bodies, to his queen, to the woman he held to heart, the queen's handmaiden, whom was still unable to stand, her body had yet to stop shaking.

"These things did not come here to attack us, yet you confronted them?" Daario inquired to the old wizard, Daenerys and many in her council listening in as the question was asked.

"They noticed my presence in the shadows. I had thought to confront them before they reported my presence to their master, but once I got a good look at their leader, I knew such hopes to be folly." Rómestámo responded with a sigh.

"You claim that the Dread Lord of Arcem Ossa seeks war with our queen? How certain are you that this thing will make an attempt on our position here?" Ser Barristan inquired.

"I am completely certain. Your queen's attempts to end slavery in these lands is commendable, but you have no doubt hindered the enemy's ability to support itself by cutting off the supply of slaves they were no doubt purchasing from these cities. It's actions are born of deception to your queen. It puts forth this decree to give the impression of defense, it wants you to think that it will remain in it's lands and do as it pleases and if you leave it alone, then it will leave you alone. This is nothing more than a ruse. I have no doubt that it is already setting to work on plans to see your conquests end here. It no doubt has ambitions towards your dragons as well. Such beasts will make powerful war machines if added to it's ranks. You must be prepared for whatever it has in store for you." The old man explained to those around him though he spoke mostly towards Daenerys.

"Why do you call the dread lord, 'it'?" Missandei questioned during a moment of pause, her first spoken words since the incident.

"Because this dread lord is no man. The markings on the corsair captain's face, indicate that he is a high ranking servant to a Balrog." Rómestámo replied, a chill entering the air, as he did. This chill was noticed by all, as many, save for the unsullied glanced around the room to search for it's source.

"What the fuck is a Balrog?" Daario inquired, staring the man down.

"A fire spirit. Fire and shadow, incarnate. They are shapeshifters, able to alter their form, but not it's composition. In ancient times, they appeared as giants, and fought with swords and whips, but in later days, they altered their fighting forms to be more monstrous, more bestial. Allowing them to fight with claw, and tooth, and tail, along with their chosen arsenal. This particular Balrog has already brought low one great kingdom, and will no doubt do so again if given the chance. If the beast is building an army, then it no longer seeks to slumber. It will invade the rest of Essos and possibly even further if allowed, spreading fire and death to all corners of the known world if it isn't stopped." Rómestámo answered, his tone conveying a seriousness to the situation that those present found difficult to believe.

"A fire spirit?" Daenerys reiterated, sharing a glance with Missandei who shook her head in disbelief.

"That's a fancy story and all, but what I'm more curious about is how it spoke through that man like a puppet? It was almost like it's words burned through him." Daario questioned.

"As I said, those markings upon the ship captain's face, mark him as a high-ranking servant to the Balrog. Those markings are part of a ritual that bound the man to the beast itself, and when I confronted it, the beast passed it's essence into the man, and you saw the effects. The creature is a demon of fire and shadow, it's power far outweighed that which a mere mortal can withstand. Its presence so horrible that it can drive mere men to terror." Rómestámo noted, glancing around at those in the room.

"When it spoke, I felt a burning in my veins, like fire, cutting through my flesh. When it began to chant in that strange language, I felt the heat seize at my heart. It was pain unlike anything I've ever felt." Daenerys stated, drawing all attention in the room, onto her, as she gazed at the old man, her eyes filled with worry, uncertainty, and concern.

"I apologize, your grace. I cannot speak on your reaction. What your guards felt, that was what I would call a typical reaction to coming across the essence of a Balrog. It may have something to do with your unique connection to dragons. From my travels I have heard that the Targaryens, are known to have dragon's blood." Rómestámo mused in response.

"What would my blood have to do with this?" Daenerys inquired.

"Dragons were created by the Enemy, your grace. The same master that the Balrogs once served, created those vicious serpents and gave rise to the mighty terrors long ago. These Valyrian dragons hold some sort of ancestry with the Great Dragons of old. If you truly have dragon's blood in your veins, and that blood is descended from the Great Dragons, then that may have some correlation." Rómestámo speculated in response, earning a curious and somewhat concerned look from Daenerys.

"You hold magical abilities?" Daenerys decided to move down a different line of questioning.

"I know a bit of magic. My friends often jokingly refer to me as a Blue Wizard, given the robes and all. I am as servant of the Istari order." The old man offered in response.

"Why did you come here to Meereen?" Daenerys inquired.

"To seek your aid, queen Daenerys." Rómestámo answered.

"Against this Balrog?" Daenerys guessed.

"And it's army, yes. You have worked hard to free the slaves of these lands and that works counterproductive to the Balrog's plans. Without fresh slaves to feed it's war machine, they will be forced to rely on orcs to make up the bulk of their army. Orcs are unreliable to all but their true master, and even then, their loyalty is questionable. This foe will not sit idly by and allow you to continue hampering it's agenda. It will move against you, and I do not wish to see you fall to it's wrath. Not when I believe you can help stop it." Rómestámo responded, his eyes locking with hers.

"You believe I can stop this creature?" Daenerys replied, her eyes flickering to the pile of ash, then back to the blue wizard.

"I believe you're the only one, this side of the Bone Mountains, who has a chance at succeeding. And I would offer my aid in that endeavor. If you would have me." Rómestámo offered. Daenerys stared down at him for several long moments before finally nodding.

**-Arcem Ossa, Valyria-**

Deep within the heart of the dreaded lands of Old Valyria, the Balrog Dathrag sat upon a throne of black fused stone, staring deep into a burning glass candle that sat beside it's throne.

Using the ancient Valyrian artifact the Balrog pressed it's thoughts towards the mind of it's master. It had something very interesting to report to her.

Khulvar had been correct, the blue wizards had been watching, and now one of them had found his way into the service of Daenerys Targaryen. Such a thing would prove quite interesting to his master. A dark chuckle filled the air, the anticipation of facing one of his kin in battle once more, excited the ancient demon.

Soon the Istari would number four, and the broken corpse of this blue wizard would be paraded before the kingdoms of men, as a sign to mark the collapse of their age, and the rise of Morgoth once more.

-**Moat Cailin, Westoros-**

Aegon marched through the interior of the castle being led towards Robb's room. Night had fallen and he had just returned from a meeting with Lilith where she informed him that one of the blue wizards had been spotted in Essos, in the city of Meereen now ruled over by Daenerys Targaryen. An interesting development, one that led the two to shifting some of their plans regarding the east. If the blue wizard had found a way here, than it was possible that others may soon follow, they needed to keep their eyes peeled for such incursions.

He had also given orders for Dathrag to dispatch Aegon's true mount from the fiery depths of the Valyrian Peninsula and send it to him.

While Lilith had been busy breeding her Great Dragons, Aegon had been busy refining a nightmarish beast of his own. A dragon that had been born on Dragonstone over two hundred and sixty years prior, that had been given the monstrous title of 'The Cannibal'. This beast had been one that Aegon, under the guise of Annatar had taken to personally. Having fed his magic into the beast's egg, long ago, and binding it to him. Over the years he had continued to use his magic to mutate the creature, resulting in a pure black abomination that fed upon other dragons, and knew no true master other than Annatar. After the Dance of the Dragons, Annatar had sent the beast to Valyria where it lived to this day, being tended to by the Witch King, and now being overlooked by Dathrag.

With Aegon beginning his march south he would recall his true mount and head south in the image of his ancestor, Aegon the Conqueror.

It would take a few days for the beast to arrive, but Aegon was patient, he gifted his personal Fellbeast to the Witch King, as reward for his services, and when the time came, he would join Lilith in the skies, with the Cannibal and Midir leading the charge into the south.

Aegon and Lilith had held their meeting away from the castle to discuss their plans away from all others, and upon his return he was asked to go to Robb's room. From the sounds of it, his cousin wasn't having an easy go of things.

Aegon arrived at Robb's room to find him there sitting next to his wife on his bed, he was breathing heavily and was digging his hands into the bed sheets kneading at them to try and keep from shaking.

Benjen stood over him, quietly talking to Robb, trying to help him remain calm. Lady Catelyn was present as well, watching her son with worried eyes. The room itself was trashed, indicating that Robb had thrown a fit shortly before Aegon's arrival.

"It's his wolf's blood." Aegon noted, entering the room and earning all of their attention.

Robb glanced up at him, panic, fear, concern, anger, and bestial hunger flashing in his gaze.

"That's what I thought." Benjen noted with a sigh.

"What's happening to him? He's been having strange dreams these last few months, and he's been sleepwalking but this is the first time he's ever shown such aggression." Jeyne asked, worry marring her face as she rubbed at her husband's back trying to get him to calm down.

"His wolf's blood is activating. Just like mine and uncle Benjen's. The Starks are descended from werewolves, half-man, half-wolf. Lilith and her magic are reawakening long dormant magics in the world. Such as the old Stark blood. Robb is having a reaction, he's starting to turn. Given a few more weeks he'll begin shape-shifting into a werewolf against his will. He needs to learn to control it, lest the beast take over and rule the man." Aegon explained.

"He can come out with me, I'll show him how to transform, how to control it." Benjen offered.

"You've come far in your training uncle. If you think you're ready, then I wont stop you from trying, but if you encounter something you do not understand, or he begins reacting violently, I want you to come to me." Aegon ordered, earning a nod from his uncle.

Quickly Aegon advanced on Robb and knelt in front of him locking eyes with his cousin.

"Settle down Robb. You can control this. The beast is part of you, a piece of the whole. You command it, not the other way around." Aegon said to him, letting some of his own wolfish features emerge. The sight of the partial change caused Robb to begin to settle, he licked at his lips and nodded, releasing the bedding he had been tearing at with his hands.

"Will he be alright?" Jeyne asked.

"He will be. He's stronger than the beast. He'll learn to control it, just like I did, just like uncle Benjen." Aegon replied reaching out and placing a hand on Robb's shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze as he rose to his feet.

"That makes three of the Starks now. What are the chances that the little ones will start to show signs of changing?" Benjen asked.

"It's a dangerous possibility. Right now Sansa is the one I'm more worried about. She's around the right age to begin turning." Aegon replied glancing towards Catelyn who's eyes went wide at the implication.

"Luckily she's farther south, away from the powers here, but she'll need to be retrieved quickly as we advance on King's Landing. Werewolves are highly resilient to damage, but I would not have her subjected to torture at the hands of the Lannisters. Lady Catelyn, when you return to Winterfell, I would ask that you keep a close eye on Bran and Rickon. They shouldn't show signs of transforming until they're closer to Sansa's age, but there are no guarantees when it comes to things like this. If they begin to show similar symptoms as Robb, send word to us immediately." Aegon commanded, earning a nod from the woman as she stepped up next to her son.

"Jeyne… is she in any danger from this?" Robb asked, after a few quiet moments.

"From you? Depends on your bedroom antics." Aegon replied after a moment, offering a chuckle at the look he got from Robb, Jeyne, and Catelyn.

"She's your wife. In animalistic terms she's also your mate. If you were to fully turn, you'd be more inclined to hunt, then anything else, in which case she wouldn't have anything to worry about. Though in a partial human state, such as what your were experiencing before, you may be more inclined towards other pursuits such as breeding. You may be a bit rougher with her in the pursuit but you wouldn't hurt her, so its possible she wouldn't even know the difference but knowing you Stark, you strike me as a gentle lover, so I'd get it under control before then." Benjen smirked at hearing that while Catelyn looked affronted, Robb and Jeyne both blushed at the implication of his words.

"Others though, will be in danger. I doubt you'd hurt your mother in that state, or any of your family members, but everyone else is fair game. Adhere to Uncle Benjen's lessons, and come to me if you have any questions he cannot answer. We march south in two days, I'd get to work on learning to control this as soon as possible." Aegon instructed earning a nod from Robb.

Aegon was quick to depart heading for his room, and leaving the Starks to handle this situation. He'd planted the seeds and given them support by training Benjen, now it was time for his pack to slowly take form.

The following days were stressful for Robb. He spent his free time away from the castle learning from Benjen how to control his lycanthropy, when he'd returned from his first trip, tired and bruised, he accidentally walked in on an argument between Jeyne and her mother. The latter of whom was none to pleased with Robb giving up his kingship. Jeyne was now the Lady of Winterfell, instead of the Queen of the North, and her mother wasn't exactly to happy about it.

Robb chose not to get involved and thankfully the two ceased with their arguments upon his arrival. Jeyne was even kind enough to assure him that she still loved him no matter what he was, be it lord or king, she was just happy to be his wife, and she would do her best to be a good Lady of Winterfell.

Robb was happy to hear it, and her reassurances helped him remain calm that night, and led to him having his first restful night of sleep in weeks.

The day before they departed from Moat Cailin, Robb had to decide how he was going to handle the Karstark prisoners and see to exactly what he wanted done with Theon.

When it came to the Karstarks, Robb made them all an offer. If they bent the knee and swore to serve, then these men would be offered a place in their army and would march south with them. If they refused, he would have them hung as deserters.

Many agreed to join, fearing for their lives, though some spat the offer back at them, refusing to serve a king of monsters, or Robb Stark for beheading their lord. These ones were immediately executed by group hanging as beheading them all one by one would have taken far to long.

Their immediate execution instilled in the northern men that their new king and queen, were no pushovers, and would punish disloyalty, and they encouraged all of the lords under their command to do the same.

Later that day, Robb went to see Theon. Few words were exchanged as Theon begged for his life. Robb did little more than stare and condemn his one-time best friend for his actions.

Despite his cold outward appearance, it had obviously broken Robb's heart to see his old friend in such a sorry state. He had gone to see Aegon after it was all said and done, and the two spent the night discussing the meaning friendship and loyalty, and what it meant to consider someone a brother. A bit of wine, helped further their long discussion but by the end of the night, Robb was more steady than he had been at the start of the day.

At dawn the following day the army set to move out and begin moving south towards the twins. An hour before they were set to begin, Aegon's mount arrived.

From the clouds the beast fell, a giant of a dragon rivaling Balerion the dread in size. The dragon was Valyrian in shape, and black as coal. The only distinguishing color besides black upon the giant beast were it's menacing emerald green eyes which glower like wildfire.

The dragon itself was imbue with a cursed blue-green flame. These morgul flames were filled with a malevolent dark magic, that would inflict unending suffering onto those burned in it's flames. A burn from the Cannibal's fire, would leave a wound that would never stop hurting. The victim would forever feel the agony of the injury and ever more so, disease and vermin would be drawn to the wound, filling it with sickening rot, and infection.

The creature truly was a marvel, his first attempt at breeding such a beast, in the image of his beloved sister's hard work. As the beast came to a thundering land before Aegon, he got to enjoy the coo of Lilith as she took in the beast an it's power. While not one of the Great Dragons, it was a beast far beyond anything nature could produce. A true terror, fit to be Aegon's personal mount.

"You did well with this beast, baby brother. I look forward to seeing what other terrors you unleash upon the battlefield." Lilith noted with approval, earning a smirk from Aegon as he approached the beast.

The dragon let out a vicious growl as Aegon approached it. The menace in the air that radiated off of the beast was almost able to choke the breath out of onlookers who watched the dragon appear.

"Hello Umbra… are you ready for war?" Aegon inquired as he approached the beast.

In response the dragon let out a hellish growl.

Aegon smirked at that, and from his lips, sprung forth a command in parseltongue. The dragon's response was instant, it lowered it's head as it to bow, and with quick use of apparition, Aegon was upon the beast's back.

He shared a look with Lilith, earning a nod of approval from her as she called down Midir and the two took to the skies.

Immediately after, their army began marching south, passing down through the Causeway, and towards the twins. Immediately upon their departure, a raven was sent to Riverrun, informing the Blackfish that he was to send a rider from Riverrun to the Twins with a command from Edmure Tully, demanding the Freys bend the knee, and allow King Robb passage across the twins from the West.

The message carried no further details, but the Blackfish was clever enough that he would understand the ruse. The Freys didn't know that Robb was in the North, and still thought that he was somewhere in the Riverlands or Westerlands. This message would make them believe that Robb was approaching from the West towards the twins, and cause them to fortify the western castle more heavily.

This plot, would act as a precaution, if Walder Frey replied with open arms, and had his gates open, then it wouldn't matter, but if they were sealed, they could attack attack the eastern castle, which would be more lightly defended, and which also housed Walder Frey himself. Capturing the old man, and many of his family members, would end the battle without having to take the other castle.

And so the plan was put in place. As they marched south, Aegon began training Robb, Edmure, Roose Bolton, Ramsay Snow, and many other newly acquired commanders, in the capabilities of his army. He instructed them in how the army functioned, what skills were possessed by the beasts within, what roles they were best suited for with their skills.

On top of this training, Robb continued learning from Benjen as they moved south and slowly gained control over his wolf form. Catelyn had left them with a small contingent of loyal men to ride north to Winterfell to look after her children, and Howland Reed would join the army in moving south, lending his word, to Aegon's claim, at Robb's request.

Their arrival at the twins was met with sealed gates, and guards stationed upon the walls. The scouts had reported back to Aegon and company the sights they spotted as the army approached.

Edmure was furious, taking Aegon's words to heart. The Freys were his subjects, Walder Frey fell to his command, and to refuse a direct order was treason.

"So now we storm in there and drag the old cunt out by his breeches, right?" Greatjon Umber offered as the army came to a halt, only a few hours travel from the Twins, still out of sight and unknown to their now confirmed enemy.

"Yes." Aegon responded after sharing a quick look with Edmure, who nodded solemnly in agreement.

"Alright then, what is the plan. The twins are heavily fortified and if the western castle hears of our attack on the eastern, they will seal the inner gates, and we wont be able to cross without a prolonged siege." Robb noted.

"Capture Walder Frey is a good plan, and may provide us with a means to secure the western-most castle, but if one of his elder sons is in the western castle at the time of the attack, he may see this as an opportunity to take over. Walder Frey is old, and not long for this world. We cannot count on the Freys acting with any sort of decency or honor." Roose Bolton stated, earning a nod of agreement from the Greatjon as well as Aegon.

"You're right. Capturing Walder Frey could be our key to victory, but I wont hedge our bets on a possibility. We have to take both castles, or at least try." Aegon agreed as he stared down at a map of the area.

"Attacking either castle will alert the other, and they'll seal the innermost gates. There's also the gate on the Water Tower in the center of the bridge. Two lines of defense in either direction. We have to take the water tower and the innermost gates to have free access to both castles. The problem is getting there." Edmure noted, staring down at the map that showed the twins and the Green Fork.

"It's almost like we need to attack the castle from the center. If we had the time we could construct rafts, and try to sail them down the Green Fork." Robb said as he ran scratched at his chin, working through several ideas in his mind.

"The Akul demonuk." Aegon stated with a smirk, sharing a glance with Lilith whom sat back, upon a small throne overlooking the meeting tent. A smile touched at her lips, agreeing wholeheartedly with his idea.

"The what?" Robb inquired, sensing inspiration sparking in Aegon.

"Long ago when Lilith came to the Land of Always Winter, she was forced to defeat those that dwelled there already. She claims to have defeated the White Walkers and taken their powers for her own. I can't speak to the validity of her claim other than to say that I've seen some of the orcs that she's bred with this power. The power of ice and cold. Blue icy eyes, a frigid aura that seems to pour off of them, with the power to animate the dead as wights. According to our legends, those are all traits the White Walkers were said to have." Aegon explained, earning dumbfounded amazement from all those in the room, who turned their gaze towards the sorceress who offered a prideful smirk in reply to their gaze.

"These orcs can freeze over the waters and allow a small force to walk down the green fork and they can scale the bridge, seize the Water Tower and actually attack the castle from the bridge. All we need is for them to take and hold the innermost gatehouse on the western castle, while pushing through and opening the gate on the eastern side, with all of the gates open we can swarm inside and take the castle before they even realize what has happened." Aegon offered after a moment of further thought, earning a slow nod from Robb as he recovered from his surprise after hearing about what supposedly happened to the White Walkers.

"That could work. You said the lighter orcs, the goblins, they're excellent climbers. If the waters beneath the bridge freeze, they can scale it, take the water tower and the lightly guarded innermost gatehouses." Robb agreed.

"We send in some goblins armed with climbing ropes, they take the water tower, toss down the ropes to the ice below, more men climb the robes and invade the castle's interior. In fact, if these orcs can freeze the waters, you could send our horse cavalry across the river, to the western bank, and have that force approach from the southwest under the Stark and Tully banners. The Freys would fully garrison the western castle and leave the eastern one even less defended. Our forces could sneak into the eastern castle, take the inner gate, take out the guards on the walls, raise the gate and rush in a force of soldiers to overwhelm it, light fast cavalry could be sent through both gate houses and across the bridge, where another force has taken out the guards watching the bridge. If there are no guards to see the attack coming from a distance then even if they close the gate, we could have one of your trolls already across it with a nice heavy warhammer to begin battering it down before they could get archers in place." Roose Bolton stated, earning a smirk from Aegon, whom quickly turned towards some of the guards stationed around the tent.

"Fetch Grath, and Ramsay Snow." Aegon commanded to the orcs, earning a swift nod as some departed to retrieve those in question.

"What you called these white walker orcs earlier, Akul… what was it?" Robb inquired.

"Akul demonuk. It's from the black speech of the orcs. It means Ice Demons. That's what the orcs call them. We have a small clutch of them traveling with us. About a dozen or so. All of them together should freeze the ice thick enough for a force of a few hundred to cross at a time, and about as many to attack the bridge." Aegon explained, earning a nod of understanding from his cousin.

"If I may your grace, what role do you intend for my son to play?" Roose Bolton inquired curiously.

"You son has shown some exceptional skills. I wish to see how he truly affords himself. I have a special mission in mind for him. I'll send him with our force, his mission will be to find and capture Walder Frey. He's still our best chance to seize the castles without a prolonged battle." Aegon explained. "Do you have any disagreement?"

"No your grace. I trust that he'll manage this assignment well." Roose responded, as Ramsay entered into the tent, followed shortly after by a sight that caused all of the Northern and Riverland lords to gasp, or mutter profanities out of shock or dread.

A towering uruk, almost a foot taller than Aegon, had been led in. this uruk had pale blue flesh that was pulled taught across his body, almost looking mummified. His hair was a pale white, and tied into a long ponytail that reached the middle of his back. His eyes were an icy blue, all the way across, looking more like sapphires then actual eyes. The presence of this uruk carried with it an aura of dread, and frigid cold. The temperature in the room plummeted quickly, and the fires of the surrounding torches that lit said tent, quickly dimmed with the closest ones sputtering out as the heat was sucked from the room.

Only those opposite the creature, nearest to Lilith felt any heat remain within them, and that heat seemed to emanate from Lilith herself who continued to watch her generals plan and coordinate with a calculating eye.

"Walder Frey has chosen a fight. I have a task for the two of you." Aegon began offering the two a smirk as he did.

Upon the night of the following day, their plan was set in place. The Akul demonuk gathered at the river early in the day and using their combined ice powers, froze an ice bridge across the lake. This ice bridge allowed for twenty men or so to cross at once on horseback. Once around two thousand had crossed, the majority of their horseriders, taken from Robb's personal guard, as well as the captured horses taken from the Karstarks, the Ice bridge was abandoned. The mystic tribe worked long and hard, using their magic to draw forth a dense mist, and a covering of blackened clouds. Both tasks could have easily been accomplished by Lilith or Aegon, but the two decided to show off the power of their army as well.

As the sun set over the horizon the dark clouds blotted out the moon, and along the river, an unbearably dense fog rose up and soon washed over the entire castle.

Under the cover of fog the army would advance. With the strike force heading to the river band a few hundred yards upstream where the water would be frozen and they would march across it to the center of the bridge.

The dense fog would block out all sight of their actions, it was so thick that one couldn't see more that a few feet in front of them, so they were in no danger of being spotted, as they made their approach.

Slowly but surely the force trudged across the ice bridge, approaching the Twins under cover of darkness and dense fog.

Soon they were at the base of the bridge, and a set of goblins began to climb the slippery stone.

Despite the slick rock, they reached the top of the bridge in a matter of moments.

Slowly the lithe little goblins peeked over the edge of the bridge, their faces less that a foot to the side of one of the two sentries that stood on either side of the Water Tower gateway.

One of the goblins made a motion to his fellows, and they began to move into position. The lead goblin pulled back and slid around the side of the Water Tower, climbing higher along the stone and the circling the edge and climbing across, silently pulling himself along the vine covered stone until his directly above the guard on the opposite side of the bridge.

The fog was so thick at the moment even glancing from one side of the bridge to the other left little more than a dark shadow for someone to see in the darkness.

This goblin heard the sound of a blade slicing through flesh and then the collapse of a body. The man beneath him turned in that direction. Before he could speak or advance to investigate the goblin fell upon his back and drove a knife into his throat, silencing any words before they could escape.

The body fell from his grasp, landing hard on the stone bridge. The sound of rushing water helped to mute the distinct noise from traveling to far, but there were no guarantees that a patrol wouldn't pass by soon.

Quickly the goblins hooked climbing robes onto the bridge and tossed them down to the men below.

Ramsay Snow and a few of his cronies were quickly up the rope and onto the bridge.

"Well what do you fucking know, it worked." One of his men whispered to him, earning a smirk from the wild Bolton bastard.

"I'm starting to enjoy having these strange folk around." Ramsay noted, as one of the White orcs, climbed up the rope and scanned the surroundings, bringing with him an unnatural chill.

He locked eyes with Ramsay for a moment before turning his gaze towards the eastern castle.

While some orcs and men began to secured the Water Tower in the center of the bridge, others quickly headed for the eastern and western castles, intent on fulfilling their missions. Those headed towards the western castle could clearly hear loud noises coming from the castle itself, fully indicating a large number of bodies moving within. It was quickly made apparent to them that those within had spotted or heard the horseriders they'd sent across and were busy keeping an eye out for an attack from the west.

Those approaching the western castle had one goal, take the inner gatehouse and hold it without drawing too much attention.

On the eastern side, Ramsay and the White orc chieftain led a collection of nearly fifty men and orcs quietly across the bridge, keeping low and using the dense fog to mask their approach.

As they approached voices filled the air.

"Why is it so fucking cold all of a sudden?" Came the voice of a Frey guard.

"Quit bitching. I don't want to have to hear this all night." Another responded.

Quietly, Ramsay and one of his men drew bows, knocked an arrow and slowly inched forward. The moment they could make out the vague outline of the guards standing beside torches on either side of the bridge, they drew back their bows and loosed their arrows.

Both guards fell to the ground dead.

Ramsay smirked as did his companion, though both were left speechless as the White orc passed them and stood between the two dead men. He lifted his arms up, as if encouraging something to rise, and in response the two bodies began moving. Lifting off of the cold stone and standing upright, their eyes now an icy blue.

In unison, both gripped the arrows in their chests, and pulled them free, before marching into the gatehouse.

"The legends are true..." Ramsay's comrade muttered with a shake of his head.

"Even the White Walkers bow to the will of the Sorceress from the North. Now that is true power." Ramsay noted with a gleeful smirk.

Quickly the men began to pour into the eastern gatehouse, easily falling upon the guards who were far less observant than those on the western side. A few slit throats later and the guardhouse fell. Now all they needed was to take the outer gatehouse and the attack would commence.

While the White orc led his troop along with a now dozen reanimated Frey men, towards the outer gatehouse, Ramsay and his troop vanished into the interior of the castle.

Walder Frey was their goal, and they intended to get a hold of the old lord before he heard the commotion and had a chance to barricade himself behind locked doors.

Quickly Ramsay led his troop through the interior of the castle, armed with short bows, swords, daggers, and axes, they made their way towards the lords room.

Anyone who got in their way, be it guards or servants, met a quick and bloody end. Within minutes they had arrived at the lord's chambers and dealt with the two guards standing outside.

With little in the way of ceremony they burst into the room, startling old Walder awake, along with his young wife who let out a scream of fright as Ramsay as his men fell upon them, tearing them out of their beds, binding their hands, and gagging them.

Outside, the sound of a horn blowing, filled the air, the signal that the outer gatehouse had been taken and was now open. With that sound, a force of warg, caragor, and spider riders would swarm in, many of them rushing through the open gates, across the bridge and through to the western castle who's gate should be open.

Screams of terror and pain quickly filled the air as thousands of beasts swarmed in through the gates, the mounted forces immediately raced across the bridge while foot soldiers and trolls swarmed into the castle cutting down anyone who got in their way.

In the western castle, Frey men attempted to reach the inner gatehouse to close the gate and drop the portcullis. They had heard the horn blowing from across the river, and could now hear the roar of the advancing army. Men were quickly making their way to the gatehouse, or the walls overlooking the bridge. Some were able to fire down onto the bridge though the dense fog made any sort of marksmanship impossible. Few were even aware of the intruders who now held the gatehouse open, and killed all those that approached the gate or entered into the gatehouse to drop the portcullis.

Soon the rumbling passed onto the bridge and quickly raced across it. Within seconds, warg riders reached the western gate and swarmed into the western castle.

Both castles had now been breached and the battle was now in full swing.

Outside of the castle on a hill overlooking the barely visible outline of the twins, sat Aegon and his generals. The torches upon the castle allowed a dim orange glow to illuminate the area of the castle, which was the only reason they even knew where it was.

Their generals stood around them listening to the battle rage below. After a few moments another horn sounded, indicating that both castles had been breached and a few second after three consecutive horn blasts sounded, indicating that Walder Frey had been captured.

"Shall we go and see what the old man has to say for himself?" Aegon inquired, glancing at Robb and Edmure.

"Yes your grace." Edmure responded.

"Aye. Let's go and see him." Robb agreed.

The group began to make their way down to the castle, led by Greywind and Ghost. Both direwolves had grown by a great deal, since leaving Moat Cailin. Since that time, Lilith had begun infusing her energy into both of the wolves, causing them to grow in size, and awakening their ancient werewolf blood. Both wolves were once again growing, with Greywind nearly as tall as a horse now, and Ghost as large as a pony. Ghost was now as large as Greywind had been when they had arrived at Moat Cailin several weeks ago, and Greywind was much large.

Their size had not gone unnoticed by others, especially Robb who spent a great deal of time with his beloved wolf. Both of their size increases were attributed to their awakening werewolf blood. Aegon chose to keep Lilith's direct involvement a secret, and instead left it as a natural development of magic's return.

He fully intended for the massive beasts to reflect the monstrous wolves of old, such as Carcharoth who once guarded the gates of Angband.

The party made their way into the eastern castle where the battle was slowly winding down. The most intense fighting now lay in certain sections of the castle where men had barricaded the doors and were using the narrow passages to hold off the much larger force.

Aegon and his generals made their way to the great hall, where Ramsay sat waiting at Walder Frey's high table.

The table itself had been flipped over and onto the floor below, so Ramsay was visible on the seat, with Walder Frey, bound and gagged, on his knees beside the chair. Within the room, surviving and wounded Frey men were being gathered, tossed into the chamber and corralled along it's edges.

"Your Grace!" Ramsay greeted, rising to his feet, "Men if you would, show lord Walder to the king."

In response, several men that had been standing nearby seized Walder and pulled him down from the high seat, tossing him painfully onto the ground at Aegon's feet. The old man let out a howl of pain and no doubt sustained decent injuries from the blow.

"Lord Walder." Aegon greeted as he stared down at the man.

"Bring him up." Robb ordered to the men, who quickly pulled Walder up onto his knees, and then lifted him onto his feet, where they held him up so that he wouldn't collapse.

"I am Aegon of the houses Targaryen and Stark. Why have you refused your liege lord passage?" Aegon inquired, gesturing to the men to remove his gag.

"Targaryen? I thought they were all dead!" Walder Frey snapped out, as soon as the gag was removed.

"Not quite. Your men in the western castle seem quite fortified. Almost like they're preparing for a siege. You intended to fight my cousin?" Aegon asked, tilting his head curiously.

Walder Frey was silent for a moment as his gaze left Aegon to drift over to Robb, and then past Robb to Edmure. Seeing both of them here, Walder paled significantly.

"I did you a great wrong Lord Walder. And for that I deserve your resentment..." Robb began.

"But you turned your back on me. On house Tully. This isn't the first time either. You sat back and waited until the battle was already won at the Trident before joining us. You refused my nephew passage into the Riverlands to aid Riverrun when the Lannisters laid siege to it. And now you've turned your back on me again. I don't blame you for turning your back on Robb when he broke his oath, but I am still your liege lord. House Tully, has been your liege lord since the Targaryens conquered Westoros, and you lord Walder, have taken every opportunity to side with someone else against my house. There are many who wanted you dead, but honorable men decided to give you one last chance to show your worth and loyalty, and instead you bar your gates and leave us to rot." Edmure seethed, having taken Aegon's and Lilith's words to heart. This man was one of his bannermen, and yet he had done all he could to undermine house Tully as often as possible.

Walder Frey sputtered out a few nonsensical words as he tried to organize a response, as he did, a northmen approached and offered a parcel to Robb, indicating that he should look at it.

"Where did you come upon this?" Robb asked, drawing everyone's attention to him.

"The Maester, my lord. He offered it in exchange for his life. He thought the orcs were going to butcher him whether he surrendered or not." The northern soldier answered.

"What is it?" Aegon inquired as Walder Frey paled even further.

Robb glanced at Aegon, then at his uncle, then he turned his gaze towards Walder Frey, his eyes filled with fury.

"This is a correspondence with Tywin Lannister. He offers house Frey a full pardon for their assistance against us." Robb explained, handing the letter to Aegon.

Aegon quickly read over it's contents before handing it to Edmure who did the same. A devilish smile spread across Aegon's face as he turned towards Walder Frey who had now gone as white as a ghost.

"You let him know that Robb was on his way to the Twins. After you received word that he was coming to cross from the west you sent word to Tywin Lannister. What was your plan exactly? Fight your liege lord and his king to the bitter end, let them bleed against your walls and when the battle was done, the Lannisters would grant Riverrun to you?" Aegon inquired.

"Answer the question!" Edmure snarled turning towards the man with fury in his eyes.

"I took a chance at dealing with my enemies. Anyone else would have done the same. I wasn't the only one to receive such an offer, why don't you look to your own ranks, young wolf!" Walder Frey spat in response.

"Those that committed treason in my ranks faced punishment for it. As will you." Robb replied.

"And what of those plotting against you? What of those that were to be my ally? I was to make you an offer when you came here, in exchange for your way over the bridge, you were to give me the Tullys, and while everyone celebrated, my men would have killed yours. But they wouldn't have been alone. The Boltons would have aided me." Walder Frey spat out, angrily throwing a triumphant smirk towards Roose Bolton.

Edmure, Robb, and many of the Northern Lords sent looks towards Roose Bolton, his face was stone cold, and showed no emotion on it. Ramsay himself tensed up at that, but before anyone could say anything further, Aegon let out a laugh.

"You think I care for the words of a viper, or those of Tywin Lannister? The Boltons helped to capture you. They helped to rescue Bran and Rickon. Lord Bolton's bastard was the one who found you for me. Lord Bolton has done nothing but offer his advice to my cousin in this war, and now he does the same for me. I take their actions, over your words!" Aegon replied, shaking his head with a chuckle.

"The Boltons have long been rivals to house Stark. We've been enemies for a lot of our history. But King Aegon is right, the Boltons have been nothing but loyal to us since this war began. I can think of no one better for Tywin Lannister to finger as an ally within our ranks then my house's greatest ancestral rival. He's a clever man, but we see through his ploy. As King Aegon said, I trust their actions, over your words." Robb agreed, breaking the tension fully in the room.

Aegon simply let out another chuckle, as the anger on Walder Frey's face vanished and was replaced by fear. He was beginning to understand that he wasn't going to hurt them, not even as a final curse before his end.

Roose Bolton and Ramsay, both settled at that, both of them sensing something from Aegon's reaction. It was almost too good for them. With a few words he had removed suspicion from their names, and yet, something about the look in his eyes, the way he spoke, it was like he knew that Walder's word were the truth. The way he turned to Roose Bolton an offered him a nod, to a lesser man it would appear as a look of reassurance, but Roose was left staring deep into his eyes. There was something there that chilled him to the bone. Aegon knew the truth, he knew Walder Frey had been right, but in an instant he had dismantled his claim and dismissed it, freeing suspicion from the minds of the other Northern lords and helping house Bolton save face.

Aegon himself continued on as if completely unfazed. He knew that Walder was telling the truth. Tywin Lannister had definitely contacted the Boltons, and the Boltons most likely considered his offer. And the moment they saw Aegon's army, they changed their minds. What one considered doing, and what one actually did were two entirely different matters. Aegon didn't care if the Boltons had considered betraying Robb, because at the end of the day, that would have been the intelligent move.

Robb was losing the war, and had lost his hold on the North. Anyone who wasn't a blind fool would consider other options in the face of such odds. What mattered was that the Boltons maintained their loyalty the moment they saw Aegon's army.

And so Aegon had spoken up, quickly defusing the situation and not allowing a rift of suspicion to form in his army. Aegon didn't care what people thought about doing, it was what they did that concerned him.

"Your attempts to sow discord into my ranks, on behalf of Tywin Lannister of all people just goes to show the depths of your betrayal." Aegon muttered, earning mutterings of agreements from many of his generals.

"Wait! Wait! I'm willing to forget all of those past transgressions, I'll even offer the Tullys and the Starks free passage across my bridge forever more." Walder quickly offered as Aegon drew his sword.

A moment of silence passed as Aegon seemed to mull over his offer.

"More." Aegon stated after a moment.

"A percentage of the revenue taken in from tolls. Say thirty percent?" Walder Frey offered again.

"More." Aegon repeated, his cold wintry eyes piercing the old man with a death glare.

"Sixty percent? Eighty? You can have one of my daughters? Two? All of them?" Walder Frey tried once more, growing more fearful as Aegon's visage darkened further.

In the background many shook their heads and let out sighs of disgust. The man truly was a coward and a craven, and now he was offering his own daughters in exchange for his life.

"You see Lord Walder, the funny thing is, everything you just offered me, I can take by simply killing you. So why would I keep you around if I wanted any of that?" Aegon inquired.

Walder Frey stared blankly at him for several moments as he tried to think of a response, but before he could Aegon simply let out a sigh and drove his blade into the man's gut. Walder Frey let out a howl of pain and agony as his belly was sliced open. His guts soon fell out on the floor, as the ancient lord began to scream in pain and terror.

"Take him up to the top of the castle and hand him over the edge, let the crows feast on his traitorous corpse." Aegon commanded.

Walder Frey's screams continued to fill the hall long after he had been dragged away.

"It's better than the traitor deserves." The Greatjon muttered, spitting on the nearest wounded Frey man to show his contempt.

"What'll we do with them?" Robb inquired, eyeing some of the actual Frey family members who had begun being corralled into the room.

"They planned to murder us all your grace, I say hang the lot of them and let the family die out." The Greatjon growled, earning a roar of agreement from several of the orc warchiefs who were in full agreement.

"Not all of them were involved in his plot." Robb noted.

"But some of them could have been." Roose pointed out.

"They are a treasonous lot, but I am not without forgiveness. Every man and woman over the age of twenty is to be executed for the crimes of their house. Every Frey member over the age of fourteen is to be questioned and commanded to bend the knee, if they prove disloyal or show any signs of disobedience they are to also be executed. There are far too many Freys in the world, and the older generations have been fed on a diet of backstabbing and blackmail to gain position by Walder Frey himself. The Twins will not be held in such turmoil." Aegon commanded as he began to wipe the blood from his blade.

"What of the surviving Frey soldiers?" Came the question from one of the orc warchiefs.

Aegon was silent for a moment as he gaze out over them. After several long seconds he glanced over his shoulder at the warchief. "There are no survivors."

The orcs and some northmen let out roars of bloodthirsty glee and quickly set about cutting throats.

As Aegon and his troop of generals began to exit the great hall, Aegon began to speak. "Never again will house Frey hold any sort of military power in these regions. I will place a warchief here to secure the crossing until house Tully decides on a fitting replacement. As of this moment, the surviving Frey will be split and sent to loyal bannermen of the Riverlands to be held as hostages until Lord Edmure decides what he wants done with them and their house name."

"A harsh treatment your grace, but deserved I believe." Roose Bolton noted.

"The Karstark men were offered reprieve because they only abandoned their liege lord. The Frey planned on betraying us, and bringing their blades to bare against us. Not only that, but Lord Edmure was correct, in that Walder Frey has had a long history of betrayals and suspicious behavior. Mercy and wrath must be shown in equal measure to ensure that your enemies never know how they will receive you. If your foes do not know how you will react, then they cannot know how to counter you." Aegon responded as they all began mounting their chosen beasts, as the battle began to wind down around them. By now most of the eastern castle had fallen, and the western castle was being overrun.

"Tormund." Aegon stated as he mounted his horse.

"King Targaryen." The Wildling warchief responded.

"I have a task for you and your men. There is a castle to the southeast of here. A great ruin called Harrenhal. Lord Bolton left a few men to garrison it but it cannot withstand any sort of major assault. Take your men and scout it out, if you spot any banner other than the flayed man, or the direwolf flying above the castle, we'll know it was retaken in our absence. If not, we can send a garrison out to it, and use it as a staging ground for our attack into the Crownlands. I'll have maps delivered to you before you leave, when you're finished scouting it out, head for Riverrun." Aegon commanded.

"Alright then, we'll go check on your ruin, see if these southern nancies managed to keep it without their mighty lord watching over them." Tormund responded, earning a not so amused look from Roose Bolton

"Well done on capturing Walder Frey, you can expect to be greatly rewarded for your accomplishment." Aegon directed at Ramsay, whom offered a bow in response.

"Always eager to please." He replied, sharing a glance with his father who offered the slightest of motions with his head, to show his approval as well.

"Warchief Goruk, you are in charge here for now. See to it that this castle is secure, and the Freys are dealt with. Have riders sent down to King's Landing with a special gift for King Joffrey. Show them all what happens to those that betray us." Aegon ordered, earning a devilish smirk from the Uruk warlord.

"It will be done, my king!" The orc replied.

"Come, let us see an end to this battle and prepare our forces to rejoin with our comrades in the Riverlands. It's time we take this fight to the Lannisters." Aegon ordered as he began to ride.

As his final words left his mouth, the castle shook as Midir and the Cannibal roared overhead. With the Freys now dealt with, the war was ready to begin.

-**King's Landing, Several Days Later-**

Tyrion Lannister was the last to arrive at the Small Council meeting, as usual. With Tywin now holding the meetings in the Tower of the Hand, it was quite a lot of steps to climb in order to reach it.

To Tyrion's surprise Joffrey was there as well. The pompous boy-king was impatiently pacing back and forth while he waited for the meeting to begin. Queen Cercei was there as well, quietly staring off, while she waited with just a bit more patience then her son.

Besides her, the rest of the Small Council was also present. Lord Mace Tyrell, Grand Maester Pycelle, Lord Varys, and of course, Tywin Lannister himself.

"Sit. The Spider has news." Tywin commanded as Tyrion did just that.

"Oh what wonderful news would require the presence of our illustrious king?" Tyrion inquired as Joffrey ceased his pacing and approached the table, throwing a nasty sneer at his uncle as he did.

"Yes, what is so important that you pretty much demand my presence?" Joffrey demanded of lord Varys.

"Word from the North, and the Twins, your grace. Information I thought it prudent that you hear, along with all of the Small Council." Varys answered.

"Continue." Tywin ordered.

"Theon Greyjoy has been captured by Northern forces, and the Stark flag now flies over Winterfell again. According to my little birds, the rumors of Bran and Rickon Stark's deaths were greatly exaggerated. The boys are alive, and Brandon is once more Lord of Winterfell." Varys informed them.

"How is that possible? The Greyjoys murdered the Stark Garrison, and Bran Stark is little more than a child." Cercei inquired.

"They were aided by the Dragon-Wolf. Aegon Targaryen." Varys responded, earning complete silence from the entire room.

"Aegon Targaryen is dead, the Mountain saw to that." Tyrion noted, as Tywin pierced the Spider with a skin-peeling look.

"Yes I am aware, my lord. Rumors I've heard is that this Aegon is actually Aegon the Eighth, younger brother of Aegon the Seventh. Though if he's calling himself King he'd technically be Aegon the Sixth of his name. According to little birds, this dragon claims to have wolf's blood. The blood of house Stark." Varys responded, again spreading silence throughout the room.

"Lyanna Stark." Tyrion noted what most were thinking.

"The babe Eddard Stark brought home from the war." Tywin responded, his eyes filling with fury at the thought.

"Lord Stark… who would have thought him capable of such a deception." Tyrion sat back in his chair and let out a mirthless chuckle.

"What are you all talking about?" Joffrey demanded, only understanding half of the conversation.

"Do you recall Ned Stark's bastard? You may have seen him while we were at Winterfell? If these rumors are true, he's not Lord Stark's bastard, he's his nephew. Son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen." Tyrion explained. Joffrey looked thoughtful for a moment before his eyes widened and filled with anger and disbelief.

"He'd still be nothing more than a bastard. Just the bastard of a dead prince instead of a dead lord." Cercei reasoned, hoping to settle her son as he began fuming.

"Not so my Queen. According to reports I've been receiving, Rhaegar and Lyanna were married in the light of the Seven. The Northmen claim it and believe it, and so do the Riverlords. According to my little birds, Robb Stark has bent the knee and now serves King Aegon. Whether they were married or not, this Aegon Targaryen, is now King of the North, and the Riverlands. And if word is accurate, he has crossed the Twins and put house Frey to the sword." Varys explained to them all, emphasizing how dire the situation was.

"Two of the Seven Kingdoms are now aligned with this Dragon-Wolf. What kind of army does he field?" Tywin asked.

"Reports differ, my lord hand. Some say ten thousand, others say fifty. All I do know is that he had a large enough force to retake Winterfell and leave forces in the North to repel the Ironborn invaders. And he also has a large enough force to take the Twins. By my understand he's joined up with Robb Stark, and the two are moving into the Riverlands as we speak. I hope to have an accurate count of their forces her in the near future, but regardless, Robb Stark's army is back up to the strength it was at the beginning of his campaign, at the very least." Varys answered his question, glancing around at everyone as he replied.

"Possibly fifty thousand?" Tyrion demanded, leaning forward in his seat.

"It's just speculation at this point." Varys tried to placate them, but both Tyrion and Tywin knew the Spider well enough to know that he wouldn't have said any number if their wasn't evidence to back it up.

"We need to get a full counting of their forces. If this Aegon Targaryen truly is who he says he is, our enemies will rally to his cause." Tywin noted with a dark look.

"There is one more thing, my lord hand, my King. Whispers I've heard claims that he has a dragon." Varys informed them.

"A dragon?" Cersei replied.

"Yes my queen. A full grown dragon. I have my little birds gathering what information they can but for now all we have is what they have provided as well as our own speculations." Varys stated.

"We have to get a handle on this situation, and we have to do it now. Our first step is verifying the validity of these claims. We need to know who this Aegon Targaryen is, what he's planning, how large his army is. We cannot afford to operate under speculation if these rumors are even remotely correct." Tywin commanded, earning a nod from Varys.

A dark air descended over the room at that point, as Varys shared a look of concern with Tyrion. This was not something either of them had anticipated, and now it seems the War of the Five King was back in full swing.

**-To Be Continued-**

_**Alright, how was that, hope you all enjoyed, and I hope you look forward to what's coming next. If you have any questions, please let me know, I'd love to hear them and I'll answer them if I can. See you next chapter, and stay safe everyone. Later!**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**Alright, here's the next chapter for you guys. Hope everyone is staying safe.**_

**Darkness Reborn**

Chapter 13: The flames grow.

"_This world is so familiar to me..." _Lilith thought to herself. She was currently sitting beneath a tree just outside of Riverrun. Surrounding the castle was a massive encampment that held their army, now joined with Robb Stark's men.

At the moment Lilith was busy reflecting on her thoughts, while occasionally gazing down at the camp where Aegon was busily training with Benjen and Robb.

Lilith had noted certain changes that had come about since her brother had taken this new body. Firstly he was far more physical, in that he actually spent time and energy training and working on his combat abilities. He no longer just relied on his power, he had taken the last few years to begin honing and refining his combat abilities, he actually was a decent swordsmen now, far better than he'd ever been before and he continued to practice quite often.

Another thing she noticed was that Aegon seemed to have a soft spot for those blood relatives of his. This was something that she understood quite well. All his life he had wanted people to care about him. As Harry Potter, he surrounded himself with friends, and the like, all in an effort to feel less lonely, and Lilith could never fault him for that. What she quickly noticed though was that most of those people only wanted to be around Harry for his fame. They weren't true friends, they didn't really care about him.

She had tried to tell him, and the two would often get into heated arguments about it, but Lilith's point was often proven time and again when his so-called friends would abandon him and turn on him whenever the weather turned turbulent.

Still, despite that, she never blamed him for wanting those attachments, even though a part of her wanted to be the one to chase away his loneliness.

Still these people were a bit different. These Starks genuinely seemed to care for him, and he seemed to have some inkling of genuine care for them as well. Luckily he had grown out of his youthful ignorance and saw things much clearer now. He could easily read people and determine their motivations. Gone were the days of fair-weather friends. And because of his maturity, Lilith was content to allow him to form such bonds if he desired them, so long as they did not interfere with her bond with him.

With that being said though, Lilith did approve of him keeping them at arms length, and he didn't care so much for them, that he was above manipulating them and using them to his benefit. In truth he seemed to care a great deal about them, though it was apparent to her, that his affections for them only 'appeared' to be deep and heartfelt. In reality he cared just enough for them that he would be saddened by their deaths, and he may not be so quick to sacrifice them, but age had hardened his heart. He was no longer Harry Potter anymore. The days of selfless sacrifice had ended. These family members of his, were just comforts, comforts that Aegon tried to work into useful tools to give himself justification to keep them around.

There was a soft spot in his icy heart for them, but that was it. It was far more than most others would ever receive from the Dark Lord as he had seemingly reserved all of his true feelings for one person in particular. Her.

Lilith smiled at that, happy to finally have his affections after all these years of fighting and constant heartbreak. Without Dumbledore to tear them apart, without his manipulations getting between them, the two were free to be together, and Lilith was genuinely happy now because of it. In fact, it seemed like this was the happiest she had been in literal ages. The only thing that could make this better was getting revenge on the old Headmaster, and seeing an end to his manipulations once and for all.

Aside from his growing connections, as well as his expanding skills, Lilith had also noted that he was far more confidant in her presence. She guessed that it stemmed from a combination of things, a desire to prove himself to her, thousands of years as the Dark Lord ruling without her, along with a natural competitive edge that led him to wanting to excel at things.

He was confident to the point of arrogance at times, and desired to be the best. A trait she admired about him, his desire to constantly improve.

In truth, she enjoyed the hardened and yet wild nature of this Aegon Targaryen. He had Sauron's drive, will, power, and motivations, he had Harry's dedication, stubbornness, and determination. He had developed his own persona that seemed to blend all the part of his long life, Harry, Sauron, Mairon, Annatar, all into one person. Someone who was all of those things, and yet stood above them. It would be interesting to see who he believed he truly was now. Was Aegon still just a face that Sauron wore, or was it something more?

Lilith didn't know, but she was curious to find out. That was why she sat back most of the time and allowed him to take the lead. Amongst these low and middle men, she had no real need to prove herself. These people bore no crafts that truly impressed her, nor did their society reflect any greater wisdom to enthrall her. No they were just people, lowly little people engaged in a political squabble over a chair made of swords.

She had never seen the Iron Throne before, but according to Aegon it had a certain charm that she might like. Though at the end of the day, it was still just a collection of steel swords, melted and fused to form a throne fit for a conqueror of men.

Still this was a time of preparation and in that preparation, reflection on past mistakes. Lilith had made many in her long life, mistakes that she would not repeat. She would not allow herself to fall victim to such petty challenges of hubris or honor. She would not allow herself to be Eru's tool any longer. It was clear to her, that all that had occurred in Arda had been to his designs, as he had never lifted a finger to stop her. In the end, he saw her only as a rebellious child, throwing a tantrum. She would have to remind him that she was far more than that.

The old man would suffer for his manipulations and transgressions. He would fall one day, of that she was certain. Until that moment though, it was best to prepare. To wear the faces they had presented for themselves, and use these faces to amass power in this world. Aegon and Lilith, two who would one day stand atop the pinnacle of this world and lord over all of it, commanding gods and lords and men, and all other creatures of this world.

A shake of the head, cleared her of such thoughts. As entertaining as it was to imagine such conquests and the downfall of her enemies, it was far more useful to put her mind towards actually plans to see it accomplished, rather than just daydreaming.

Sauron busily improved himself, to his credit. This disguise of this Aegon Targaryen served as the perfect mask for their true agenda. He could play the role of a young man coming into his destiny, slowing falling into darkness at the hands of his black-hearted betrothed. It allowed him to play a less elegant and more grounded role, something that may even be useful against the elves in Arda. This vessel held his power rather nicely, she definitely looked forward to seeing it in action as their wars progressed.

"It never fails to amaze me." She heard Aegon speak. Lifting her gaze she found him standing over her staring down with a smirk.

"What?" She inquired.

"For one so lively and passionate, you do spend a lot of time with your head in the clouds." Aegon noted with a chuckle.

She made a face at him, which caused him to chuckle again.

"Daydreaming?" Aegon inquired as moved to sit next to her.

"A bit. More so just thinking." Lilith responded.

"About?" Aegon asked.

"Curiosities. Things about this world that I find interesting. For instance the magics in these place seem almost familiar to me. And the ancient echoes of the old forests in the North and the Far North take me back to ancient lands of Beleriand. It's curious. Very curious." Lilith answered, lying to him, not wanting him to know she was actually thinking about him.

Aegon turned thoughtful for a few long moments as he turned his gaze up to the sky, before finally replying.

"There are a lot of similarities between our two worlds. It's strange." Aegon admitted, finding it curious as well.

"Yes, I still don't know how dragon's descended from my creations came to live here. Or how your werewolves found their way here. Or why the Weirwood trees, seem to connect to the forests of Arda. There are connections between these worlds, beyond just the Void between them. There's also their shared connection to death, as Gothmog was summoned to these lands despite not dying here." Lilith stated, taking the opportunity to fully pull her thoughts away from him, and towards something she was also curious about.

"Hmm… those are all interesting connections. It's almost as if this world was born from the same magics that created Arda." Aegon responded sharing a glance with her.

"Like the Secret Fire was used to make it as well?" Lilith inquired, thinking on his suggestion as she did.

"Perhaps. Maybe the Secret Fire was used in the creation of many worlds? Perhaps in a way, linking them. Maybe Eru isn't the only one who's ever had his hands on it?" Aegon suggested after a few more moments of thought.

"If that's true, then there stands to reason a possibility that we may indeed find it and claim it for ourselves." Lilith noted, earning a smirk from Aegon in response.

"Indeed it does. Something to look forward to." Aegon stated, turning his gaze back to the sky, his smirk remaining as his mind filled with visions of the fall of the great foe.

Over the course of the following days, the Riverlords were assembled, alongside Northern lords that had remained behind with the Blackfish and informed of their new allegiances to the reborn Targaryen dynasty. While many who had fought alongside them and seen his army in action, cheered for Aegon's ascension, those that had been at Riverrun and were only now being introduced to the Dragon-Wolf's dark army, showed visible trepidation and uncertainty in response to these changes. Especially those that worshiped the Seven, when news reached them of a Sorceress who would one day be their queen, and the dark sorceries already committed by the army during the capture of the Twins.

"This is pure madness. Monsters, demons, and dead men all marching together, and you fools cheer for the lord of such abominations!" The Septon of Riverrun shouted over the audible chattering of Northern and Riverlords, in Riverrun's great hall.

Some men glanced at him, others chose to ignore him, few willing to offer any sort of verbal agreement to his argument.

He continued on, seemingly unabated by the nervous looks some of the lord's were giving him. While some of the Riverlords agreed with him to a certain extent, the presence of so many of these so-called 'monsters' in and around Riverrun, tempered most of them.

"Sit down Septon, you're making a fool of yourself." Came the voice Greatjon Umber, who was sitting with his son, discussing preparations for their men.

"Don't you see? This sorceress is trying to deceive you all! Following her will only lead to death and destruction. Following one so condemned by the Seven, will serve to damn you. She is an abomination!" The Septon roared in reply, furious and seemingly coming unhinged.

A few nervous glances were shared, especially between those that had just noticed said sorceress enter the room.

"She is a fiend, and will curse us all to serve in her undead army! We must embrace the light of the Seven and submit ourselves to the Father's Divine justice!" The Septon shouted, as some men rose to their feet.

Seeing this the Septon grew more bold, though he misinterpreted their actions. Lilith now stood behind the man, listening to his rants with a smirk.

"We must submit ourselves and pray for the mercy of the mother, before this darkness consumes us all!" The Septon continued.

"Yes, submit yourselves, pray for mercy, throw yourselves upon the alter of your god and beg." Lilith stated, shocking the man, as he spun around to face her, his eyes wide with fright.

"You… You..." He began only for her let out a musical chuckle and shake her head.

"You hold faith in something, and that something gives you comfort. I don't blame you, it makes the fear of the unknown so much more manageable if you can pin every freak occurrence on demons or gods. It's a coping mechanism, to help you sleep better. I don't blame you for clinging to such beliefs. Your gods are most likely real, just like all the other ones are probably real too. _You see… I've seen gods before, I've dealt with them, fought them, even killed them, on occasion. I do not fear your god, or his seven faces. He holds no power over me. Call upon him, if you wish, I will happily answer the challenge, and throw him down, like all other foes. Pray, pray as hard as you can, bring your god to me, so that I may cut his throat!"_ Lilith began speaking though her voice soon entered into the Septon's head, so that only he could hear her finishing statements.

The man began to back away, trembling as he did. His hands fell to his robes, drawing a knife that was hidden away there.

He lifted it and tried to let out a battle-cry, though it came out more as a scream of terror.

Before he made it even a step, surrounding lords, had grabbed him and wrestled him to the ground. Because they hadn't heard what she'd whispered into the man's mind, they had no way of knowing what had set him off.

"Have you lost your mind!?" One of the Riverlords cried out as he wrestled the knife from the man's hand.

"She's a Witch! A Demon! She'll doom you all to the Seven Hells!" The Septon screamed as several men pinned him down.

Lilith simply watched, her face calm, almost passive as she observed the incident.

"What is the meaning of this?" The Blackfish roared as he, Edmure, Robb, Benjen, and Aegon entered into the Hall. It was obvious that they had come to have their midday meal, only to find the Hall erupting into chaos as the Septon frothed and fought, screaming profanities and curses at Lilith.

"He tried to attack her. Pulled a knife on her, my lord!" One of the Northern Lords shouted to Robb, many others quickly voicing their agreement as the Septon was pulled to his feet and kept restrained.

"Have you lost your mind?" Edmure demanded as he and the others began to cross the room towards the conflict.

"She is a monster! I heard her voice in my head! She threatened to slay the gods! She's a demon, a servant of the Lord of the Seven Hells!" The Septon shouted in response.

"You're hearing voices in your head now?" The Blackfish inquired, sharing a glance with Robb.

"He's been screaming about monsters, and demons all morning your grace. Long before lady Lilith even showed up. The moment he saw her, he just went crazy." The Greatjon offered, his son quickly agreeing with him.

Aegon was silent as he stepped past the struggling man to stand before Lilith.

"Are you alright?" He asked, in the good-natured way, that often reminded people that he was raised by Ned Stark.

"I'm fine. All I said to him was that I didn't blame him for believing in gods. It's a way for people to find comfort when faced with the unknown. He didn't seem to like me dismissing his gods in such a way. Though in all honesty I don't believe in any gods, though I acknowledge that they exist. I know this because I've seen them, dealt with them, even fought a few in my time. I don't hold anyone's faith against them, I believe everyone should be free to worship whatever higher powers they choose to." Lilith responded, offering the man a pitying glance. Her words drew dumbfounded looks from those around her, the idea that she had met and even fought gods before was a new revelation that most of them had never even considered.

Aegon himself played along, giving her a look of confusion and even a bit of disbelief, pretending to have some doubt towards what she was saying, before he shook his head and turned towards the restrained septon.

"I don't care who you claim to serve or what you claim to believe in. You will not raise a hand against her." Aegon snarled at the septon.

"The gods will see you all punished for this. For bowing to this abomination!" The septon replied, earning a hard backhand from Aegon, which knocked the man senseless.

"You are no servant of any god. You are just a pathetic little cowardly fool, and will be judged for your actions. For the crimes of attempted murder, I Aegon of the houses Targaryen and Stark, hereby sentence you to die. I will not spill blood in Lord Edmure's halls. Take him outside and have him hung. Inform those within the Sept that they must choose a new septon or septa, preferably one who can exalt his or her beliefs in a less violent manner." Aegon commanded, earning a roar of rage from the septon as he was dragged away.

Silence filled the room as Aegon shook his head and let out a sigh.

"Any man here is free to believe in whatever gods he may choose. Old gods, New gods, or no gods at all, I don't care. All I do care about is ensuring that your beliefs do not spread chaos throughout my ranks. Believe whatever you want, proclaim it as much as you want, but the moment you take a blade in your hands and try to bring it to bare against my allies, or my forces, that is the moment I will get involved, that is the moment when you will answer for your beliefs. Is that understood?" Aegon stated, eyeing those in the room, earning nods from the surrounding lords.

"I apologize for that my lady. Septon Marth, was always overly zealous, though had I known he was capable of something like this, I would have ordered that he remain in his Sept." Edmure apologized to Lilith.

"Think nothing of it, Lord Edmure. Men cannot help themselves when driven by fear. Rationality tends to fade in the face of such things." Lilith responded coolly, striding past them as she exited the hall. Aegon stared after her, hiding his smirk to avoid any suspicion. Both of them were well aware of the hatred that the Faith of the Seven had for magic, and they both knew that it would cause trouble. Their intention had always been to drive a wedge between the fanatical faithful and the more moderate followers who would refuse to give up their lives in the name of some greater force they couldn't comprehend.

While maintaining the idea of religious freedom, Aegon and Lilith would slowly convert the populace into their followers, using their magics and powers, to display unimaginable miracles to the populace. They would become gods in the eyes of smallfolk and high lords alike. It was only a matter of time and patience.

A week later, and Tormund returned with his scouts. The small garrison that had been left at Harrenhal by Roose Bolton, was still there. The Lannisters had made no move to reclaim the castle during their absence.

Now Aegon had gathered all of his generals and warchiefs together to discuss their attack strategy.

"Alright, now that we know where our boundaries lay, we can begin our offensive against the Lannisters and the Tyrells." Robb noted, his eyes scanning a map of Westoros and all the places they knew the enemy to be.

"Tywin and his army are in the Crownlands, protecting King's Landing, with a Tyrell host as well. Kevin Lannister commands the forces in the Westerlands, some thirty thousand strong, at least, though more could be called up when we begin to press them. We also have to worry about the Tyrell army, marching in from the Reach to reinforce their allies. If we're not careful, both of those forces could quickly equal our own." Roose Bolton stated, eyeing the map intently.

"Our first order of business is ensuring Tywin feels the pressure in King's Landing. I'll send a force out to Harrenhal, and that force will commence raids on the Crownlands. Just as Tywin set his mad dog loose on the Riverlands, we'll repay his actions in kind by setting the Crownlands on fire. Our purpose there will be two-fold. Terror and attrition. King's Landing will have a strong food supply, as it prepares for the coming winter. We need to drain their supplies by flooding the capitol with refugees and getting the peasants off of their farms." Aegon began, placing a piece on Harrenhal to illustrate his plan.

"Sending out raiders from Harrenhal, they'll have to be light and fast, Harrenhal is a ruin, and not easily defended." Robb noted.

"You're right. I'll send out a contingent of five hundred light cavalry, and one thousand warg riders. Their purpose will be to light the Crownlands on fire, and raid any convoys or caravans taking supplies to King's Landing in the Northern area of the Crownlands." Aegon noted.

"Cutting Tywin off from the resources of the Crownlands, while we can launch an assault on the Westerlands." The Blackfish stated, eyeing the map.

"Yes. While our forces harass the Lannister supply lines, we'll focus our attention on the Westerlands. Right now the greater threat is in King's Landing and we need to diminish Tywin's reputation by taking his ancestral home. I intend to split our forces into two armies. One will march down the River Road and lay siege to the Golden Tooth, while the other will march south and reclaim Pinkmaiden. From there they will march straight south, leaving a small raiding force near the Gold Road. Their goal will be to capture Bitterbridge." Aegon stated as he eyed the map, playing out his invasion in his mind.

"A force to raid the Gold Road and an army to cut off the Tyrells from King's Landing. Our southern army is going to have a hard time of it, stuck between the forces of Tywin in the Crownlands, and the Tyrells in the Reach." Robb noted, eyeing the location of Bitterbridge on the map.

"The force sent there will need to be stalwart. Cutting off King's Landing from the fertile lands of the reach will further drain Tywin's resources, King Joffrey will soon be faced by an unending mass of starving peasants, and weary soldiers. No amount of discipline will keep a man in line when he is starving to death." Roose said, sharing a glance with Robb, who nodded in agreement.

"The Force sent there will be led by the Iron Titan. He will have fifteen thousand at his command. Three thousand will be left on the Gold Road to cut off Tywin from his brother. The remaining twelve thousand will across the Reach setting fire to the countryside as they go, sending thousands fleeing into the safety of King's Landing and Highgarden. They'll move fast across those open plains and reach Bitterbridge quickly. Five hundred Spider riders will assist them in taking the castle. All they need is to get the gates open and the Iron Titan will smash the defenders. Tywin will be far too busy dealing with a starving populace to amass an army to attack the bridge from the east. So the forces there will only have to hold out against an attack from the West. Stannis Baratheon still holds the Stormlands as far as we know, and he wont lift a finger to help the Lannisters, and Dorne wont get involved, they despise the Lannisters, and in that, we may find a way to take the Reach and the Stormlands with greater ease." Aegon explained to them all.

"You intend to send emissaries into Dorne to request an alliance?" Robb inquired.

"I do. Doran Martell despises Tywin for what happened to Princess Elia and her children. The Dornish may be willing to take up arms and join our cause in order to obtain vengeance against the Lannisters." Aegon reasoned.

"A good point. Gaining the Dornish to our side would pull further support from Tywin as the Reach would have to defend it's southern border then." Robb agreed, as did many others.

"The opportunity for vengeance might get them moving, but don't forget Prince Rhaegar did snub them by seeking out a new woman to marry. They may not be so quick to side with you, because of it." Roose Bolton reminded them all, earning a thoughtful nod from Aegon as he began to reflect on what else could be offered to the Dornish to secure their loyalty.

"Offering to make one of their princess's a concubine or a second wife, will suffice to gain their allegiance." Lilith noted, causing all attention to turn to her, Aegon especially expressing surprise at her declaration.

"I'm sorry..." Aegon began while Lilith let out a musical chuckle.

"Dragon's bow to no laws, not that of men, nor of the divine. You're ancestor proved that. My ambitions will not rest with the taking of Westoros. My armies will soon wash over the entire world. Our children will inherit that legacy, but I can think of no greater subordinates to serve them as kings and queens, then those of blood." Lilith noted, again chuckling. While Aegon openly expressed surprise, it wasn't for the reasons that the others did. In fact, his surprise stemmed from her willingness to encourage him to breed with lesser beings, people other than her even. She stared right at him, her smile never wavering, and her eyes filled with a sultry and enticing allure that would make men or women quake with desire.

"What are you saying?" Aegon asked, needing clarification as he tried to piece together her angle.

"I will be empress of this world, my dearest Aegon, and you it's Emperor. You may be a king now, but you will one day be far more than that. I intend to establish an empire over this world. You will be mine, and our children will rule this great empire, but I will take no others, only you will give me children to rule this empire. However, the kingdoms within that empire will need rulers, and my lust for conquest is great. I don't intend to mother an army to rule these lands, so we will need to appoint rulers to serve us. Westoros will still need a king or queen, when we ascend beyond the boundaries of this land to take the world, having those kings and queens share blood with the imperial royal family, will serve as strong ties to unite our empire." Lilith explained to them all, her eyes beginning to glow with fiery glee. By her side a blackened mass of shadows began to ignite with flames, as Gothmog reacted to his masters growing passion. The surrounding lords, shuddered at the power on display and couldn't stop themselves from retreating a few steps as they stared in awe.

Aegon was the only one who did not flee. Instead he dropped his gaze and took in her words. He understood the wisdom she was offering. In truth they would advance beyond the Kingdoms of Westoros and take on the whole world, forging an empire under their dominion. With Lilith and he as the Empress and Emperor, they would need great lords to serve as rulers of the various kingdoms under their domain. Instead of having a child for each kingdom, Lilith intended to use him as a stud to create a small army of higher beings to rule these kingdoms, and because he was an ascended being, these children would be immortal, undying and would rule their kingdoms forever. And also, they would have blood and magical ties to him as their father, and they would be subservient to their half-siblings that he and Lilith would create. Those children would have two parents who were god-like beings, and would be god-like themselves. Meaning they would not only hold the loyalty of their lesser half-siblings but the raw power to defeat them if it ever came to betrayal. And at the end of the day, his children with other women would still hold magical ties to Lilith as their aunt.

She was planning for the long run, establishing an empire, as well as establishing a ruling dynasty throughout their conquered kingdoms. In fact, if he were to ask her, he was sure she would most likely agree that the children he had with these concubines would later marry their half-siblings that he and Lilith had, further cementing the unification of their empire, by ensuring that all of the kingdoms had strong ties to the Imperial Royal family.

After a few moments he let out a dry chuckle and shook his head, his actions causing Gothmog to settle down, becoming nothing more than a dreadful shadow with a smoldering heart, while Lilith merely smirked at him.

"You put a lot on me. Using me as a brood mare to breed your empire for you." Aegon mumbled, his words, fully breaking the tension and earning a smirk and a chuckle from Robb.

"Aw… poor little Aegon, I'm sure you will find a way to manage." Lilith teased him, as he let out another sigh.

"Well then, we have something to try and tempt the Dornish with. Prince Doran has a daughter if I recall." Aegon began.

"Princess Arianne, supposedly she's quite beautiful. You may be able to tempt them with such an offer, at the very least, giving them a high position at court, and ties to the Royal family once again." Edmure noted, Aegon nodding in agreement.

"Alright, we know our plans, now it's time to carry them out. We march in two days time. Prepare your forces and one last thing, Lord Bolton, I would like to speak with you and your son in regards to an important matter, if you would please." Aegon commanded, earning a nod from the man, as everyone began departing.

As people made their way out of the chamber, Robb stepped up next to his cousin and gave him a look.

"What is it?" Aegon inquired.

"I just wanted to ask if you had any plans on rescuing Arya and Sansa from King's Landing?" Robb asked.

"Lilith has agents in the capitol who are keeping a close eye on King Joffrey. I've asked her to try and get word to them, so we can work out a plan to smuggle Sansa and Arya out of King's Landing. I'll tell you more when we hear back from them." Aegon replied, earning a nod from his cousin.

Robb quickly while Roose remained behind, one of his men sent to fetch Ramsay.

"Lord Bolton… I wanted to talk to you in regards to awarding your son for his actions at the Twins. He infiltrated deep into the enemy castle and managed to capture Walder Frey in the midst of all of that chaos. His actions are highly commendable and I reward such actions whenever possible." Aegon began, as he stood before the Lord of the Dreadfort.

"I'm sure my son will be pleased with whatever you offer your grace. He is eager to prove himself, and will be happy to see that his actions have born merit." Roose offered in response.

"Yes… I was wondering if you believed his actions warranted legitimization. I believe he's shown exceptional ability, both in command and governance. You did leave him as acting lord of the Dreadfort and he successfully raised an army to help reclaim Winterfell. If you consent I will legitimize him as your son and heir." Aegon offered, earning surprise from Lord Bolton.

"Your grace, this is a great honor. Given his recent successes, I can think of no greater reward then to see him recognized as a Bolton." Roose Bolton responded.

"Then I will see it done." Aegon stated, turning and striding away from the Northern Lord before stopping and glancing over his shoulder.

"Continue to show me the merits of your house, and I will see you greatly rewarded, far more than Tywin Lannister could ever hope to offer." Aegon stated, his words, causing Roose Bolton to tense up.

A few long moments of silence passed as Aegon confirmed that he knew that Roose Bolton had been in contact with Tywin before coming to join them at Moat Cailin.

"What a man thinks, and what a man does, are two entirely different things, my lord. I don't punish men for considering betrayal, I punish them for committing it. Remain loyal to house Stark, and to me, and you'll see your house elevated far beyond your wildest dreams." Aegon said as he turned to face the man, both of them locking eyes.

After several long moments, Roose Bolton nodded. "Your grace." He offered respectfully.

On her throne, Lilith let out a snort of amusement, watching the game of politics play out.

Soon Ramsay was escorted into the room.

"My King." The young man offered in greeting, bowing as he did.

"Ramsay, you did very well in capturing Walder Frey, it showed exceptional skill and bravery infiltrating the castle during the middle of an attack. I like to see such acts rewarded. You're father has petitioned to see you legitimized in light of your successes. You've proven yourself a strong, cunning, and capable man, and as such I believe you deserve to take the name of your father. From this day forth you are Ramsay Bolton, son of Roose Bolton, and heir to the Dreadfort." Ramsay seemed stunned by the proclamation, and for a moment, so did Roose Bolton. More and more, Aegon was revealing himself to be far more cunning then he outwardly displayed.

With his statement, he had made it seem like Roose had pushed for Ramsay's legitimization, elevating the father in the eyes of the son. Such a thing would help secure Ramsay's loyalty to his father, by making him believe that Roose was the one who tried to get him legitimized, rather than the king offering it. King Aegon was far more than he appeared, far more clever than one raised by Ned Stark could possibly be.

The mystery of the Dragon-Wolf was deepening, and Roose Bolton was one of the few who could see it.

It took a moment for Ramsay to recover and when he did he turned to his father and knelt down.

"I will be worthy of this father, I promise." Ramsay declared, earning a nod from his father.

"I will have the documentation drawn up in the morning. I have one more gift I would like to give you Ramsay, something that I think will sweeten this wondrous occasion." Aegon began, turning and heading over to a side table where a wide case sat atop it.

Aegon opened the case and retrieved it's contents as Ramsay rose to his feet.

Held in his hands was a black and silver bow, it was formed out of a dark wood, with silver etchings on it's body. Along the frame of the bow were silver runic inscriptions, that detailed an ancient story. The bow was of Númenórean craft and was one of many trinkets that Aegon had pilfered during his stay in Númenor.

"This is Estel's dagnir. Hope's Bane. Crafted by ancient men it is inscribed with a tale of cunning, and skill. A story of a great warrior who slew an enemy chieftain from afar when he thought himself victorious. This bow is old, and has served few masters in it's long years. Treat it well, and it will guide your arrows to their mark." Aegon explained, offering the bow to Ramsay, who took it and immediately noted how light it felt in his hands.

He examined the craftsmanship of the bow and found it to be pristine, the etchings along the bow must have been done by hand but they were absolutely flawless. The hands that crafted this bow, were unshakable.

Aegon presented him an arrow and gestured towards the wall opposite the room where a steel cuirass hung from a rack. "This bow has magical properties, any arrow loosed from it will bury deeply into it's target, so long as the marksman's aim is true."

Ramsay's eyes went wide as he heard that, a magical bow, now his to use as he pleased. He took the arrow from the king and knocked it. He drew back the bow, noting that the draw weight was reasonably heavier than the bow's size would insinuate, and he took aim at the armor.

For a moment he wondered if such a target was insufficient as it was just a steel cuirass, with nothing beneath it to stop it from swaying from the strike. He quickly decided he didn't overly care, and let the bow string slip from his fingers.

A loud zip tore through the air, followed by a snap, and a glitter of sparks as the arrow pierced straight through the front armor and out the back. It went so far as to leave only the fletchings sticking out of the front.

Both Roose and Ramsay blinked several times in surprise at how easily the arrow pierced plate armor. Even at a relatively close distance, the arrow shot straight through the armor, the open space between the front plate and the back plate, and then pierced the back.

Both glanced down at the bow, then at Aegon, surprised by the power behind it.

"As I said, this bow has magical properties. It was made over three thousand years ago, and it is one of the oldest weapons currently held by any man in Westoros. Use it well, and may it always remain in the hands of one so worthy to carry it." Aegon expressed, earning a slow nod from Ramsay as he once more admired the craftsmanship of the bow. While the bow itself had very little actual history, it had been made during the years he had been prisoner on the isle of Númenor. In all actuality the bow had found it's way into the Temple of Morgoth. One of many trinkets, stripped from men who were burned alive, and discreetly smuggled off the island and sent to Umbar where they would then find their way to Mordor.

"I thank you for this great gift my king, I will use it in your name and bring death to all your enemies." Ramsay declared, earning a smile from Aegon.

"And I look forward to it. You've shown me great promise Ramsay Bolton, I would see just what heights you can climb, when unleashed. You will join your father on my war council, I would see if you are as skilled with strategy as I suspect. Prove to me your worth and you may find yourself in command of an army of your own. Upon the marrow, you will awaken as Ramsay Bolton, son of Roose Bolton, and heir to the Dreadfort. Long may our houses stand united." Aegon replied, his words earning a prideful smirk from Ramsay, and just the barest glint of approval in the eyes of Roose Bolton, who otherwise remained calm and passive as usual.

"See yourselves to food and rest. We march in two days time. I will have men sent for you if we gather for another council before then." Aegon instructed giving both a nod, earning bows in reply as father and son quickly departed the room. Aegon was silent for a moment before turning his attention to one of the men standing guard.

"Fetch Maester Aemon for me." Aegon commanded, earning a quick nod as the man of Tantibus Arcis bowed and quickly departed.

Aegon then turned to Lilith, the two now alone save for some guards and Gothmog.

"You intend to turn me into a stud?" Aegon inquired, his gaze curious and disbelieving, suspecting some sort of ruse.

"You don't have to fuck them if you don't want to. You can use magic to impregnate them if you aren't of the mood, I just think fucking will be much more pleasurable." Lilith responded with a smirk, again earning a degree of uncertainty and caution from Aegon, as he suspected something was amiss, given how well he knew her and her jealously, he knew she'd never allow him to be with another woman, unless she had an ulterior motive for doing so.

Her jealousy was one of the main reasons he'd never used his charismatic and charming nature to enthrall any of the women he'd encountered in Middle Earth. Many had felt that way about him, especially when he was under the guise of Annatar, he could have filled his bed with women and elf maidens, but he knew that if he ever wanted to earn Lilith's forgiveness one day, he'd have to keep his list of offenses as small as possible, and fucking anyone who wasn't her would most definitely piss her off, or at least he thought so. Even if she didn't have much association with sex, with her memories suppressed as Morgoth, he still didn't want to risk it, knowing full well how savage Lilith could be with her jealousy.

As Harry Potter, Lilith had brutally murdered his fiance, this had taken place shortly after she became the Dark Lady. She had gotten word to Harry that his wife had only started liking him for his money, same with his best friend at the time. This reveal had really hurt Harry and after confronting them on it and gaining confirmation, he had stormed out to go and find a place to get drunk and drown in his sorrows.

He had spent the night convincing himself that despite it starting because of money, the relationship he had with his best friend and his fiance were genuine, and eventually his friend had tracked him down and they spent the night talking, trying to work past it as they got drunk. Meanwhile back at home, Lilith had taken the opportunity to sneak into his house and murder his fiance.

In truth it took Harry to even confirm that it was her as the house elves had also been killed, and there was no recognizable part of his fiance left. She had been reduced to a pile of organs, strips of skin, and blood that coated almost every surface of their bedroom.

This had driven Harry into a blind fury, and he had stayed that way for a long time, only learning after the world was destroyed that there was more to the story, and that it wasn't just as simple as greed. He later learned that his fiance and best friend, as well as their entire family had been involved with Dumbledore in a plot to steal his fortune, his titles, and his family magics. They had been lying to him for the entirety of the time that he had known them, and it was this revelation along with what Dumbledore had done, that fully broke his resolve in the light and shattered his mind.

Harry had spent countless years wandering the grayish, lifeless world the Earth had become. Nothing but dragons, and a few other scant magical beings remained upon the blasted gray wastes. Even now, Harry had no real clue as to how long he had spent there, wandering aimlessly, unable to die, and without a purpose. He also had no clue as to how long it took for him to regain his senses and begin exploring the ruins of the world in search of anything that could help him.

Those were memories he didn't like to think on, and to this day he refused to remember those people by name. People that had once been his whole world, people he had betrayed his beloved twin for, people that had used him, and planned to steal everything from him. He hated them, he absolutely hated them, and he would never allow their names to be remembered, those names were carried now only by three people. Him, Lilith, and Eru, Lilith would never speak of them, and they would die out when Eru was put to the sword.

He hadn't been with a woman since then. Even when he served as Morgoth's lieutenant and the two loved one another, Morgoth had little in the way of desire for physical coupling, the deepest of her physical desires was being kissed or held, and he had never pressed her beyond such things, not wanting to try and take advantage of her, when she had no memory of what had happened between them.

Even now, with her memory restored, the two had yet to actually do the deed. At most intense kissing sessions as well as some moderate petting had occurred, but Aegon had kept things progressing slowly.

The idea of him being with any other woman other than Lilith had entered his mind before, but it had never translated into action. He wouldn't be with another woman until he either earned her forgiveness or received her complete rejection. He would have remained in that limbo state for the rest of his immortal life, as repentance to her for betraying her.

"You're giving me permission to fuck them if I want to? Who are you and what have you done with Lilith?" Aegon asked in response, fully suspecting this was some kind of test, or a trap of some sort.

Lilith read his mind and smirked at the idea, knowing full well why he thought those things.

"You're mine baby brother, and I thank you for being celibate for eons, but I'm not asking you to fall in love with them." Lilith began, sitting forward in her throne and eyeing him with a calm look.

"But you want me to breed with them?" Aegon asked.

"Partially. I'll help you of course, but they didn't need to know that. Any children you conceive with them will either be magically adopted by me, or I'll help in creating them. No matter who the surrogate will be, they'll only have about a third of their being from her, the rest of them will be us." Lilith explained, understanding dawning on Aegon as he offered a nod as he turned thoughtful.

"So you do intend to establish an empire over this world? That's what you've decided? And you intend for these concubines to breed a generation of rulers for the various kingdoms under our authority?" Aegon surmised.

"Yes." Lilith responded simply.

"Why not just you and I make them? Why would we need some lowly humans?" Aegon asked,

"My answer is multifaceted. Firstly, we'll need to discuss how we'll handle Westoros, I think it would be best to split these lands into two kingdoms under our rule. A northern kingdom and a southern one. With the Far North added to the kingdoms, the territory that is part of Westoros has increased drastically and ruling it all from King's Landing is infeasible by conventional means. The same could be said for Essos, and Sorthoryos, and Ulthos. Those lands are unexplored, and could be massive, we'll need to split these continents into various kingdoms and by the end, there could be over a dozen under our command. I don't intend to spend over a decade pregnant, not even I am that masochistic. Not to mention our children, the ones we make will be far more powerful than their lesser half-siblings, and they will be able to lord over them when we return to Arda. On top of that, we can use these concubines to breed a small army of higher magical beings, equal or even greater in strength than some of the Maiar. With my powers, and you being the Master of Death, we are both gods in our own right, and our children will be as well. Our empire will expand into Arda and new kingdoms will be established there as well, all of these kingdoms ruled by our blood with our children being the lords of this great empire. Add onto it, that all of these children, born to me or these concubines will be far stronger than even the elves of Arda, and will easily wash over the weaker of the Maiar and be able to hold their own against the stronger ones. They still outnumber us, and I intend to even the scales. When we march on Arda, imagine an army of our children at our backs, with powers similar to the Maiar, it would be like the War of Wrath once more, but this time, it would be us invading." Lilith explained to him, delivering her reasoning to him as he listened intently, and turned thoughtful.

"Alright, your reasoning is sound so far, but why these middle men? We were both once human, and we know how weak they are." Aegon inquired again.

"We wouldn't be breeding with simple lords and ladies. The ones you impregnate will be those with strong ancestral magics in their veins. Magics of this world, and in Arda. Arianne Martell, is descended from Nymeria, the Rhoynar Princess. The Rhoynish magics flow in her veins. Similar powers flow within the little red-headed Stark girl you seduced." Lilith pointed out.

"Spreading our powers by literally breeding them into the lineage of these people and combining their inborn powers with our own. I understand. Though what I'm still curious about is when did you think this up? I have nothing against it, especially if I don't actually have to sleep with them if I don't want to, but I am curious as to why you'd allow such a thing. You hate people as a general rule." Aegon noted, giving her a look.

"I do. And to be quite honest, my reasoning are to give you a practical grasp towards my more intimate depravities." Lilith responded as she rose to her feet and descended from her throne, stepping up to him with a sultry look on her face.

Aegon stared at her curiously as he waited for her to continue, interested in just what kind of depravities she was interested in.

"When we fought against each other so long ago I had female slaves to satisfy my needs, I always hated them, and I wanted them to feel my pain, my loneliness, my heartache. I took great pleasure in letting them fall in love with me, before casting them aside for another, only to return to them later, and win back their affections, driving them crazy as I pulled at their heartstrings. I only killed the ones who realized that my affections for them were nothing. I only freed them when they realized that I didn't actually love them, that they were nothing more than sex dolls for me to pleasure myself with. And I must say… such… pleasures, came very close to what we had." Lilith said to him, her tone becoming sultry as she pulled him to her and whispered into his ear.

Aegon let out a dark chuckle at that, his arms encircling her, as his lips found their way to her neck.

"You are truly twisted, my love. You want me to do the same to them. Make them love me, and then break their hearts by always choosing you?" Aegon inquired, enticed by the idea of such sufferings, especially if it pleased his beloved.

"I don't care if you break them or not. I had some I favored, the ones who always came back, I couldn't help but enjoy, no matter how much I hurt them. I enjoy loyal little slaves, especially in the bedroom, and I want to show you what wonders they can provide when you've shown them their true place in the world." Lilith again whispered into his ear.

"Their place, no matter what title they have, or who's cunt they fell out of, is beneath us." Aegon growled sensually into her ear, Lilith pressing further into him as she let out a growl of her own.

"Yes! I want a bedroom full of beautiful little sex slaves, and I want you to provide them for me. I want to see how well you choose them. And how well you tame them for me." Lilith said in a quiet tone, pulling back from him and meeting his gaze.

Aegon stared back for a moment before his hand rose up and seized her throat. The action was rough, and passionate, his grasp not hard enough to choke her, but enough to gain her full attention, as his eyes began to glow with emerald passion.

"You'll need to perform then, my love. With so many ravishing women to please me, you'll have to prove to me you're better than all of them." Aegon challenged her, his voice rough, and so very enticing.

Lilith let out a soft moan, her eyes lighting up with with a bright orange flame, excitement dancing across her face, as she grinned.

"Finish your work, then come to our chambers… and I'll show you what I remember." Lilith growled pulling his hand free from her neck and kissing him roughly on the lips.

She quickly made for the doors, as they opened, Maester Aemon and the guard sent to retrieve him both entering as Lilith passed them. Aegon didn't notice them at first, he was busy locking eyes with Gothmog, the Balrog in question merely shook his head and growled something out in Valarin, the language of the Ainur. Aegon chuckled at that, his words translating as something akin to 'I hope you known what you're getting yourself into'.

Dismissing it, as the Balrog's shadow faded away, disappearing from sight, Aegon turned to his grand-uncle, offering the man a smile.

"Your grace? Troubles?" Aemon Targaryen inquired, noting the strange look on Lilith's face as she departed.

Aegon was silent for a moment as he rationalized how to answer that question. After a moment he simply grinned and let out a chuckle, "No problems at all. Just my darling bride-to-be, beckoning me finish the night's work and join her in bed."

Aemon offered a nod and a small smile at that, happy that Aegon was getting along with his future queen. Whatever reservation he may or may not have about the woman, it was important for the future of the Seven Kingdoms that the two of them got along, and just from an observers point of view, they seemed to be head-over-heels for one another.

"What can I help you with?" Aemon inquired.

"I need you to draft up an official decree, as reward for his part in capturing Walder Frey, I am legitimizing Ramsay Snow, allowing him to take his father's name, and become his official heir. I am unsure how such decrees should be worded, otherwise I would do it myself, so if you could, have that written up, I'll sign it in the morning, and have it delivered to the Boltons." Aegon explained, earning a nod from his grand-uncle.

"A wise course of action your grace. The Boltons have long been rivals of House Stark, doing what you can to lessen such ancestral grudges will go a long way in securing a peaceful and orderly kingdom." Aemon praised him.

"I had thought as such, and it seemed a suitable reward for Ramsay's actions. Either before you retire or upon the morrow, see it done. I'd like it cemented before we depart." Aegon responded earning a nod of understanding from the man.

"I'll see it done. Go now, my dear boy, see to your lady, to rarely do we get to enjoy the touch of the one's we love, especially in times of war." Aemon offered, his words causing Aegon to smile and nod.

"I think I'll do just that. Good night, granduncle." Aegon wished him farewell, quickly departing to chase after Lilith.

He arrived at their chambers, finding them magically locked. He pressed his magic into the door, and felt the locks open, allowing him a few moments to enter before they sealed once more.

He entered into the room, feeling the magic sealing the passage behind him and came upon a sight that nearly made him lose strength in his legs at it's enticement.

Lilith stood in the center of the room, naked as the day she was born. Her body was on full display for him, and from her erect nipples, and wet center, he knew without a shadow of doubt, that tonight wasn't going to be like the others.

Her breathing was heavy as he began to approach her, his clothes disappearing from sight as he used magic to free himself from them.

A small smirk touched at his lips as he recovered from his surprise and noted the wetness on her hand. Knowing how desperately she wanted this, made it all the more enticing for him. It was obvious that all the talk of children, as well as remembering all of her little sex slaves had worked up his beloved sister, and she was now very much in need of some kind of release.

It didn't take long for him to lose all of his clothes, and as soon as he was completely naked she let out a soft whimper and closed the gap between the two.

Both of them met in a passionate kiss, their bodies pressing tightly together, almost seeming to meld as their lips locked, and their tongues began to intertwine.

"_How long have you wanted this_?" Aegon inquired, his voice passing into her head as they continued to kiss.

"_I've always wanted to fuck you. When we were teenagers, when we were adults, when we were enemies. It was always you. Nothing excites me more than when I think of you. And nothing makes it more intense than when I remember those scant few nights we shared so long ago."_ Lilith responded, her hand reaching down between them and grabbing hold of his cock which was pressed up against her pelvis and belly. She slowly began to stroke it, earning a groan from her beloved.

In response he began to push her back, the two slowly making their way across the room towards their bed.

"_Those nights were to few. You were always the best. Better than her in every way, better than my memories of you, nothing could compare to those days when we were together. I curse myself everyday, for ever walking away from them."_ Aegon again whispered into her mind, as he felt her run into the bed.

She quickly separated from him, her breathing heavy, and the lust in her gaze, overpowering almost any other emotion.

She quickly dropped to her knees, offering little in the way of pretext as her lips wrapped around the end of his cock.

Aegon groaned in pleasure, and than his eyes went wide as she began taking in his cock. Given that he was the only man she had ever been with, he was surprised to see that she was able to take in so much of him. It didn't occur to him at that moment that she wasn't the same human woman he knew the last time they had slept together. She was a higher magical being now, basically a god, given her power, and realistically, she probably didn't have a gag reflex, or organs in general.

In truth, while Aegon had a physical body, this vessel was far from human. He had evolved it into something far greater upon aiding in it's creation when he decided to unite the Stark and Targaryen bloodlines. It appeared human, but it wasn't human. It had no true classification, beyond his perfect vessel. While he cared little for how he looked, he did ensure that he used magic to enhance or restrict certain features, all in an attempt to appear more desirable, both for his manipulations, and for Lilith.

He hadn't been much to look at as Harry Potter, Lilith had always been the beautiful twin. Her form now was almost a mirror reflection of the one she had possessed so long ago. She was tall, just like him, with pale skin and her long jet-black hair. The pointed ears were the only trait that differentiated her from what she used to look like.

Her breasts were still large and round, her hips shapely and curved, she had a firm round butt, all in all she possessed an enticing hourglass form, that often made men and women stare at her. She was beautiful, incredibly so. He liked to think himself handsome in this form, he had often been called beautiful, though many times it was a jab, the whole point was for him to have a type of beauty not often seen in men. He wasn't meant to appear overly glum, or even cold, as the Starks often were, he was meant to have the beautiful looks of a Targaryen, with Stark coloring, which is the form he refined.

At a thought he could change any parts of himself, if he so desired, but he quite liked this form, he had grown used to the balance of it, and how it moved. It seemed that Lilith liked it as well, especially the size and girth of his member, if her grunts and hums were of any indication.

Letting out another moan of pleasure he placed his hands on her head, matching her established momentum as she continued to bob back and forth taking in his full length each time.

"_You're bigger than you were before."_ Lilith noted as she continued on.

"_Guess I got lucky."_ Aegon responded, causing her to laugh as she pulled back, drool coating his cock as she looked up at him him, amusement filling her gaze.

"Liar." Lilith teased her breathing still heavy, and despite her joking, the lust in her voice hadn't faded.

"We'll see just how tight you are, and see if I'm the only one trying to please the other." Aegon growled in reply, earning a playful giggle from Lilith as she wrapped her lips around him and resumed her pleasurable sucking.

Aegon glared down at her, and for a moment, considered some form of retaliation. He quickly chose to allow her the bit of teasing for the moment, he would simply repay her for it later.

For several long minutes, she continued, one of her hands playfully dancing across her own body, while the other fondled his balls. Aegon was close to his release, but he knew his twin well enough to know that she wasn't going to give it to him that easily. Before reaching that precipice, she would retreat, keeping him at bay until his orgasm retreated, only to bring him that close again, and repeat the actions. She could be a cruel lover at times, but it often made the release, infinitely more amazing.

Before she could get him there he pulled away from her, earning surprise from his beloved as he reached down and pulled her to her feet only to push her back onto the bed.

His lips quickly found their way to her breasts, while one of his hands trailed between her legs and began to tease at the area around her burning hot center.

Lilith groaned in pleasure as his lips circled around one of her nipples and gently sucked on it. He was teasing her, and she knew it, she began moving her hips, enticing him to enter her, with his hand or with his cock, she didn't care at this point.

He grinned as he continued to tease at her sensitive lips, occasionally brushing their wetness with his fingers, while using him thumb to caress her clit.

Letting out a growl she grabbed his the hand that was between her legs, holding it still as she tried to work her hips up so that he'd enter her.

Aegon smirked at her attempts, pressing his middle finger to her opening, and plunging it in, the moment she tried to do it herself. The result was an entrance that was harder and more sudden then she had anticipated and she let out a gasp when it happened.

"Fucking hell woman… any normal man would lose his cock to this vice trap." Aegon stated as he stroked her insides, earning a pleasured growl from Lilith in response.

"_Fuck me..."_ Lilith whined into his mind.

"I plan on it." He responded as he continued to suckle from her breasts, and he added a second finger and began speeding up his ministrations, earning a throaty moan from the woman.

He continued for several long moments, Lilith's whines and whimpers growing louder as he sped up, and located her g-spot.

Aegon soon pulled away from her breasts, and moved down to her clit as he continued fingering her.

It didn't take long for her whimpers to become cries of pleasure, as he guided her to her peak.

With a cry, he felt her whole body spasm, and release, her fluids erupting out of her as he continued his movements, unhindered by her cries.

"Give me your cock, keep going." She got out, through her gasps.

Liking the idea of that, Aegon removed himself from her and climbed onto the bed. She scooted further along it, as he climbed on top of her, positioning himself, he pierced her folds.

He felt her legs lock around him as he began thrusting into her, this was where she wanted him, she wasn't letting him leave.

Leaning down the two met in a passionate kiss as he continued thrusting.

A few moments later he scooped her into his arms and lifted her off the bed, setting her on his lap, allowing her to move at her own speed. She moved quickly bouncing up and down along his shaft, it wasn't long before he felt his release build.

As he closed in, he pushed her down into the bed, taking over and thrusting into her fast and hard, allowing himself to reach his peak and release into her depths.

Lilith let out a gasp of pleasure as she felt him cum inside of her. Both of them were breathing heavily, their eyes locked with one another.

They remained that way for several very long moments before Lilith reached up and caressed his cheek.

"I love you." Aegon whispered quietly, earning surprise from her. Her eyes flitted away from him, embarrassment, tinging her cheeks red.

"I love you too." She admitted almost as quietly. He smiled at her words and kissed her. A kiss she quickly returned as the two began to resume their lovemaking.

They continued long into the night, only stopping when the sun began to peak over the horizon the following morning.

The two were cuddling in bed when a knock was heard at the door. Lilith let out a sigh, as she laid on her belly, her head rested on her forearm. Aegon had been busy spending the last hour trailing kisses along her shoulders and back. He let out a sigh of his own, disappointed to see the night's events finally over. With a wave of his hand, the scent of sex faded, and the blankets that had long been tossed aside during the night of passion, flew back over. Aegon used them to cover Lilith hiding her nude frame beneath them, leaving only her head poking out from beneath.

He rose to his feet and retrieved fresh clothes as another gentle knock was heard. He had just finished pulling on his trousers when he called out for his guest to enter.

The magics around the door evaporated immediately as the door was opened. In came Maester Aemon as Aegon was pulling on his boots, he was still shirtless, and even in the early dawn light, the red marks left over from his night with Lilith were readily visible to the eye.

Aemon offered him a look, his eyes briefly flitting to the slumbering form of Lilith on the bed, before handing Aegon a parchment.

Aegon quickly read it's contents, finding it to be Ramsay's legitimization, he offered maester Aemon a nod and motioned for him to follow him, the two quickly exiting as Aegon threw on a shirt.

"I apologize for waking you, your grace, but a rider arrived a few moments ago. He wishes to speak with the king, Sandor Clegane. Claims to have information on Sansa and Arya Stark." Aemon informed him as they walked.

"You were right to come to me. Lilith's the temperamental one when it comes to being woken up, but in truth we weren't actually asleep." Aegon noted with a chuckle, earning one from Maester Aemon as well.

"Do you think the Hound is telling the truth?" Aegon inquired as they made their way to the great hall. This early in the morning several people were just starting to rise and begin their daily routines.

"I think it couldn't hurt to hear what he has to say." Aemon responded.

"I agree." Aegon stated, as the two entered the hall, finding it scantly populated by more than a handful of guards around it's perimeter, and a small clutch of about a dozen orcs surrounding two people, ready to attack them at a moments notice.

Both of these people, Aegon recognized immediately. One was the Hound, bodyguard of King Joffrey, he recalled seeing the man at Winterfell. And the other was Arya Stark, dressed as a boy, her hair cut short, but he recognized her face, and the little thin sword she carried at her side immediately.

"Has my cousin been informed about this?" Aegon inquired when he spotted them.

"Some men went to get him, same for lord Tully." Aemon responded, sensing Aegon's excitement as he eyed the two.

"Good. That's Arya Stark." Aegon noted, nodding towards the girl. Both Sandor and Arya were watching the surrounding orcs, with weary trepidation. Most likely they had seen some wild and unnerving sights as they passed through the camp around Riverrun. By luck they had arrived at night, and were unable to see the orcs or other creatures in the dark, had it been light out the two may not have ventured close to the castle, and instead remained at a distance watching until they spotted familiar faces.

"Stand down!" Aegon commanded, his voice causing the surrounding orcs to quickly scamper away, almost fearfully fleeing from their master as he approached the two.

The moment Arya's eyes fell on Aegon her face lit up.

"Jon!" She cried out racing forward to meet him.

Aegon caught her in a tight hug, as she met him. A smile spreading across his face.

"You escaped King's Landing?" Aegon inquired separating from her a bit, but keeping his arms around her.

"A man of the Night's Watch. Yoren. He rescued me from the city, helped me escape. The Lannisters killed him, took us prisoner at Harrenhal. We got away and met the Brotherhood without Banners. That's where I met this one, grouchy old fucker." Arya mumbled that last part, giving Sandor the side-eye as he glared at her.

"I ran away from them after they sold my friend to the Red Woman. He caught me, agreed to bring me here to Riverrun to sell me to Robb." Arya informed him.

"Did you tell him you're not worth that much?" Aegon inquired with a smirk, earning an indignant look from Arya.

He let out a laugh as she hit him in the side and pulled her into another hug, before releasing her.

"You traveled quite a ways to bring my sister back to her family. That's a debt not easily repaid." Aegon noted, turning to face Sandor Clegane.

"The Lannisters are cunts, and they don't pay me enough to die for them, or to serve the prick king Joffrey. I came to offer the girl as fair trade for enough gold to get the fuck away from them." Sandor stated.

"I can offer you far better. For Arya, a thousand Gold Dragons." Aegon offered, his words earning surprise from both Sandor and Arya at the amount.

"You've got that much to offer for her?" Sandor asked in disbelief.

"Where did you get that much gold?" Arya asked, equally as disbelieving.

"I've been busy." Aegon noted with a chuckle.

"You stand before King Aegon of the houses Targaryen and Stark. The King of the Far North, the Wall, the Gift, the North, and the Riverlands." Maester Aemon noted.

Arya was left dumbfounded by that, as was Sandor Clegane, at about that moment, Robb made it to the chambers, looking like he had almost run here, Benjen wasn't far behind.

"Robb!" Arya shouted with glee as she raced over to him.

Aegon offered the two a smile as they reunited but kept his attention on the younger Clegane brother.

"You're a Targaryen?" Sandor asked.

"Son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. You saw part of my army out there. I have eighty-thousand soldiers at my back, and two full grown dragons. I'm going to slaughter the Lannisters and send your older brother's head and cock to the Martells to do with as they please. I would welcome a man of you talents within my army, if you so desire." Aegon offered in response.

Sandor Clegane would have outright refused had the situation been different, or had the man asking been someone else. The things he'd seen outside, and now the look in the eyes of this boy-king, who was not much older than Joffrey. There was malice in those gray eyes, a ruthlessness that now even the great Tywin Lannister could hope to match. Something about this boy was different, and for reasons he didn't fully understand, Sandor Clegane was afraid of him.

The boy was a killer, a butcher, a monster, he could see it in his eyes, but he'd never seen it in one so young before.

His original plan was to take the money and flee to Essos, away from the Lannisters, away from the shit of Westoros. But now… something in his gut warned him that he wouldn't be safe if he did that. This Aegon Targaryen… he was different… terrifying in a way that Sandor Clegane couldn't quite place.

It was for these reasons that he didn't refuse outright, and instead remained silent.

"I'll have your ransom collected for you. You're free to remain here in Riverrun to rest and recover from your long journey. Think on my offer, further reward will follow should you prove yourself in my service." Aegon stated, earning a slight nod from the man as he turned and headed over to where his cousins and uncle were busy reuniting.

"Mother is going to be ecstatic to hear that you're alright." Robb offered to his sister.

"I was in Harrenhal, Tywin Lannister made me his cup-bearer, he didn't recognize who I was. I heard about your victories." Arya said to him, earning momentary concern from Robb, as he heard just how close she had come to being recaptured.

"How did you escape?" Benjen asked.

"A man of the Night's Watch. Yoren. He died protecting me and my friends from the Lannisters. They were after an older boy named Gendry. After Yoren died we were taken to Harrenhal, we later escaped and were taken in by the Brotherhood-Without-Banners. They sold Gendry to some Red Woman to pay for their war. I ran away, ran into the Hound, and he brought me here." Arya explained to her brother and uncle.

"You knew the man?" Robb asked, glancing at his uncle.

"I did. He was my friend. He was a good man. I'm sorry he didn't make it back in time to be freed from his oaths by the King. He would have been a useful man to have around." Benjen responded with a sigh.

"What about Sansa, do you know what happened to her?" Robb asked.

"The Lannisters still have her. She was with the King when he cut off father's head. She just stood there and did nothing." Arya growled out, anger flashing in her eyes.

"There was nothing she could have done. Sansa is still just a child, and she's not as brave as you." Robb tried to placate her.

"She still should have done something! I would have!" Arya snapped in response.

"We all believe we'd do things differently if we were in someone else position. Unfortunately we'll never know. Sansa couldn't have saved father. She's just one person, at the end of the day." Aegon noted stepping up behind Arya and placing a hand on her shoulder.

Arya was quiet for a moment before deciding to drop the subject. She turned to face him and gave him a curious look.

"The Maester called you Aegon Targaryen… he said you were king in the North?" Arya stated, confused.

"Eddard Stark wasn't my father, he was my uncle. Your aunt Lyanna was my mother. Rhaegar Targaryen was my real father. Your father claimed me as his bastard to keep me safe from Robert Baratheon and Tywin Lannister. After what the Mountain and Armory Lorch did to my half-siblings and their mother during the sacking of King's Landing." Aegon explained. Arya stared at him, wide eyed and dumbfounded before glancing at Robb who offered a nod to confirm Aegon's words.

"You're the rightful king of Westoros?" Arya said, half to him, half to herself.

"I am. Robb bent the knee to me, as did lord Edmure. I took the far North, the Wall, and the Gift before marching my army south to join up with Robb and help him avenge Lord Eddard's death and get you and Sansa back." Aegon explained to her.

"Those things outside… those strange men..." Arya began.

"They're not men. Some of them are orcs. Others uruks. There's trolls, wargs, caragors, spiders, giants, wildlings, northmen, River land men, men of Tantibus Arcis, mammoths, and more in my army. I even have my own dragon." Aegon said to her, earning as amazement from Arya, and almost on cue, the castle was filled with the bellow of a dragon as Umbra the Cannibal soared overhead.

"When we have some time I will show him to you." Aegon offered, causing her face to light up.

"Before then, there's some things we need to discuss. Come let's talk." Aegon ordered after a moment, gesturing for them to follow him to where he had established his office.

For the next several hours, they spoke with Arya, letting her know about what happened at Winterfell and that Bran and Rickon were alright. They also briefly explained about Aegon's adventures north of the Wall and what had happened there. Arya told them everything that had happened to her during her time on the run.

Sneaking out of the city with Yoren, being captured by the Lannisters and taken to Harrenhal, finding a man she had previously rescued disguised as a Lannister soldier, who helped her and some of her friends escape as repayment, as well as killing two people for her, one being Armory Lorch which Aegon appreciated hearing.

She told them how the man who had helped them had changed his face, right before her eyes, almost like he had some sort of magic. Later they were found by the Brotherhood, and taken in. They later captured the Hound and put him on trial for the murder of her friend. He fought in a trial-by-combat and was victorious, killing his opponent, Beric Dondarion, only for Thoros of Myr the Red Priest to bring him back to life, something he had supposedly done over half a dozen times by that point.

Eventually they encountered the Red Woman who bought her friend Gendry. Later she made an escape and was caught by the Hound who intended to sell her to Robb.

It had taken most of the morning to go through the entire conversation, and by it's end, they had to decide what to do with her.

Robb wanted to send her back to Winterfell, but he didn't trust the idea of her being on the road any longer. It was a miracle she had made it this far, but dumb luck only worked for so long.

So it was decided that she would remain with them, kept close to avoid Tywin's agents finding her.

In fact, Aegon decided to keep it a secret that they had her at all. Reasoning that the Lannisters wanted everyone to think they had Sansa and Arya, and probably thought Arya was dead, it could be used against them, revealing that they in fact had Arya, at a later date, and also, it would keep Arya safe, as the Lannisters would simply go on thinking she was dead.

So Arya was told to keep a low profile and in exchange Aegon promised to find someone to continue her trained, as she was very much interested in putting her newfound Water Dancing skills to the test.

Arya took to quietly settling in with Aegon's party, keeping out of sight, but often not straying overly far away.

The following day, Sandor Clegane decided to accept Aegon's offer and swore his service to him. He seemed reluctant to do so, but Aegon accepted his service nonetheless.

Not long after that, the army began it's march.

Down the River Road they marched, keeping a steady pace, and earning fright and amazement from the populace who lived along the road itself. The Iron Titan took his fifteen thousand forces and marched south along the river, moving towards Pinkmaiden and then the Gold Road.

For several days the army made it's way down the River Road towards the Golden Tooth. The plan of action was quite simple, they would save their strength for Casterly Rock and Lannisport, using their dragons they would set the Golden Tooth aflame defeating it's defensive position overlooking entrance to the Westerlands.

Then they would march on Casterly Rock, where they would take the castle and capture Kevin Lannister. With both in their possession, the Westerlands would belong to House Targaryen.

As they marched towards the Golden Tooth, Aegon commanded one of his more skilled servants to continue Arya's training. It was obvious that she was developing a bit of skill with her thin little needle, and by her own account she had already killed a man, and intended to kill others, namely Joffrey, and the Queen.

While Robb wasn't overly excited to hear his sister was learning how to fight, he did agree that it was better that she knew how, especially if she was traveling with them. And she did show some skill, so he was less resistant to the idea than he would have otherwise been.

So with that in mind, Aegon had recruited an assassin within his ranks, a goblin bloodletter, who was far more intelligent than many of her kin. She was nowhere near the strongest of his servants, but this particular goblin had shown a skill in bloodshed and violence, and despite being a lowly goblin, had managed to survive for nearly six hundred years. That was an exceptionally long lifespan for any servant of the orc caste, but even more so for goblins, who were much easier to kill than their orc, or uruk brethren.

This goblin's name was Sheeka, and she had spent nearly all of her six hundred years, surviving in Mordor, using her intellect to secure protection from stronger orcs and uruks by offering her skills to various warchiefs. Due to her size, and skill she was very good and sneaking around and was exceptionally skilled with a blade.

Her lithe frame and agile fighting style, made her a useful partner for Arya to have, as she continued to practice her Water Dancing and refining her skills as a fighter.

While recounting Arya's story to Maester Aemon, he made note of the face-changing assassin she had met, suggesting that it might have been one of the fabled Faceless Men.

The idea of these assassins interested both Aegon and Lilith, and both speculated on ways to possibly gain their support in future wars, or possibly steal their magics for use in their own campaigns.

It was an interesting prospect, and something that they intended to keep in mind, when their gaze turned towards Essos.

Within a handful of days, Aegon's army had made it down the River Road and was approaching the Golden Tooth.

The castle itself was relatively small, though it held a commanding position over the road that connected the Riverlands with the Westerlands. Despite it's size, this castle would not be easily assailed at least by a conventional human army.

Thanks to Robb's actions during the War of the Five Kings, the castle itself was less defended then it could have been. During the war, Robb had found a pathway around the castle and had used it to sneak past the defenders and fall upon his unaware enemy at Oxcross. Because of this, many of the defenders that would normally be placed here, had been pulled back to other locations, as they anticipated another such maneuver.

Aegon had other plans, he intended to take the castle, along with it's rich stores of gold and mines, and he intended to use this battle to inflate his legend. Aegon in truth cared very little for the Targaryen, or Stark names, he cared very little for the name Aegon as well, they were all just tools for him to control men. Using his dragon to set fire to the Golden Tooth, would paint him as Aegon the Conqueror, reborn.

That was a legacy he could wield to great effect against his enemies here in Westoros. And he would, and bring it to bare against all those that opposed him. He would wield Aegon Targaryen for as long as it was needed, and would bring this world to heel, bringing order to the chaos, it was only a matter of time.

**-****Arcem Ossa, Valyria, a ****short while later-**

A man's scream tore out as an entity composed of fire and shadow, pressed it's will and powers into this man's body.

Flame erupted from every pore, and the man screamed in pure agony as power coursed through him. Like working a puppet, the mighty Balrog, Dathrag manipulated and controlled the man, letting his power pass into him, and control him.

After a few moments, he released his control, the flames fading, leaving behind a burned out husk of a human being. Blacked and burned, down to the bone. Life immediately fled the vessel the moment it was released from the Balrog's control.

"I have no doubt, my lord. He is the only one who has survived your powers, and his features match. He holds the blood of the dragon." Came the voice of a man. This man was cloaked in black, standing at six feet tall, he had shoulder length silver hair, and violet eyes. Tan skin, which was encribed with blackened runes, each one having been burned into the flesh, over the course of his life. He was a descendant of old Valyria, now sworn to the service of the Dark Powers.

This man's name was Talaenor Laegyreon, of the blood of old Valyria. He was descended of some of the few survivors of the Doom, those that had been rescued when the Dark Powers descended upon the ruined peninsula after the Doom. Those of pure blood were few and far between, but they made excellent sorcerers, and served their new dark master, reverently.

The demonic Balrog, they came to worship as a disciple of a new dark god. These surviving Valyrians, had long since cast down the names of their old gods, and had instead, taken to worshiping the might of the Goddess of Order, Wrath, Fire, Shadow, Night, and Conquest. The goddess Morgoth.

Talaenor was known as the lord of Valyria, and master of the Broken Lands. He was second only to the High-Priest of the Order of Night, the Balrog Dathrag. To whom all in Valyria served, as their ultimate master, and aspect of their goddess.

"No others can survived your power, only those imbued with the blood of the Great Dragons could hope to maintain even a sliver of your strength." Talaenor continued as he slowly circled the burned out corpse that had once been a Dothraki screamer.

"**Yes. He is no ordinary Valyrian. That one was forged by Sauron's hand. Nearly a hundred I have tested, and he is the only one to survive."** Dathrag responded, his gaze turned towards a cage nearby where a broken husk of a man lay.

"Unfortunately, he lacks any sort of will, his mind is broken. Whatever torment he suffered on the open plains of the Dothraki Sea, broke him, and reduced him to this. Still… his body could be useful." Talaenor noted, his gaze also falling onto a face, shrouded by silvery-blonde locks. Violet eyes that had once matched Talaenor's were now dead and empty. Unspeakable pain, had left this man absent mind, or will. He had been rendered mute, and a quadriplegic through the pains he'd suffered before being found out in the Dothraki Sea.

It was a group of riders who had found his broken body, screaming in agony out in the grassy fields not far from the Dothraki capitol of Vaes Dothrak.

These scouts, dispatched to Vaes Dothrak to trade, had taken in the screaming man, due to his physical traits, believing him to be one of their own. His arms and legs had been broken and he had been left to fend for himself. By the time he was found, his screaming had left him horse, and yet even still, the pain of moving him and carrying him back to Valyria, ensured that his screams did not cease. By the time they had arrived in Valyria, he had shredded his vocal cords, and could no longer utter a sound.

They did not know who he was, and given his state, he was reduced to little more than an experiment to be studied and then cast aside. It was when Dathrag used him as a vessel to try and possess the man that he realized something was different about this Valyrian. Unlike so many others, this one had survived.

The only answer the Balrog had was that this was one of Sauron's creations. A Targaryen. It was the blood of the dragon that had allowed his body to receive some of Dathrag's power and survive, unburned.

"**I will send word to Sauron and let him know that I have one of his little pets. I am curious to see if he has any plans for it."** Dathrag stated, earning a nod from his subordinate.

"As you wish, my lord. Now have you considered what actions should be taken against the blue wizard? We know that he has taken up residence in Meereen, and is no doubt advising Queen Daenerys Targaryen. If he manages to gain her allegiance to his cause, she could use her dragons against us." Talaenor expressed.

"**Another of Sauron's pets. She will be kept under control for the moment, if the Istari wishes to wield her against us, we will simply destroy him. For now, have out agents infiltrate Meereen, I am far more concerned with how the wizard got here, than what he intends to do."** Dathrag commanded.

"I will see it done my lord." Talaenor bowed and quickly departed as the Balrog retreated to it's personal chambers.

It appeared before a vast mirror and stared into it, pressing it's twisted will into the mirror, calling out to it's dark master.

A few moments passed, before a figure revealed itself to the Balrog, the cool, and alluring face of it's master, staring back at it.

"Dathrag, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Lilith inquired.

"**I have encountered something of interest here. One of Sauron's experiments, a Targaryen. I was attempting to possess a human form, simply testing certain abilities, and on a whim, I attempted them on this man, he managed to survive, and I believe it is because he has the blood of the Great Dragon's within him."** Dathrag explained.

Lilith seemed thoughtful for several long moments, normally she would be generally uninterested in such basic ideas as simple possession, but a curious thought tugged at her.

"Do me a favor my old friend, prepare a summoning ritual, I will have the man transported here, to my presence. There is something I wish to try." Lilith commanded, earning a bow from the Balrog.

**-Back in Westoros, The Golden Tooth-**

Screams of pain tore through the air as men burned alive. Turquoise flames enveloped the castle on the hill and were very slowly dying out. Surrounding the castle, the bodies of several hundred who had attempted to flee the inferno.

Aegon had done exactly what he had intended to do, people were already comparing this act to the burning of Harrenhal. An amusing comparison because in reality, Aegon had seen the burning of Harrenhal, and knew for a fact that this was nothing compared to that slaughter. People couldn't help but make such comparisons, even if they only shared a few similarities. Regardless it benefited him greatly, and furthered his goal of reigniting the fear invoked by the Targaryen name.

What few men were spared, were kept in makeshift pens, any who were injured were given a swift and merciful death, while the rest would be kept caged, until the proper moment.

With the Golden Tooth now removed as an obstacle, it was time for them to invade the Westerlands.

That night, under the glow of a burning castle, Aegon met with his advisers and discussed his plans regarding the West.

He intended to slam into the Lannister force, rushing down the River Road and making it to Casterly Rock within a week or two. The Nazgûl on their Fellbeasts would patrol the skies, ensuring that no enemy forces gathered in the field to stop them. They would march down the River Road, setting fire to every town, village, or castle that refused to bend the knee, and they would lay siege to Casterly Rock. While the Rock was being besieged, part of the army would break off and attack Lannisport, the nearby city.

Using his Dragon, Aegon would burn down the gatehouse, allowing entrance into the city, he would also use his dragon to keep any ships from leaving the harbor. The intention for the city was to take the Lannister fleet at anchor, if the ships couldn't flee, then they could easily be taken, and then used for later conquests.

Once Lannisport was taken, they would launch a massive assault on Casterly Rock, using goblins and spiders to attack it from the sides facing the ocean, while the main forces would slap into it from the front. With the assistance of dragons, fellbeasts, spiders and goblins, they would disrupt the defenders long enough to get forces over the walls and into the castle itself.

It was suggested by Robb that they simply use one of the Dragon's to burn down the gate of the castle as well, saving time and resources, Aegon openly agreed, though he and Lilith already had other plans in regards to the gates of Casterly Rock. It was about time for the Dark Lady herself to make her grand entrance and show her power to the world.

The plan for the Westerlands was to hit them hard and fast, and take the kingdom without wasting too much time. The Lannisters were allied with the Tyrells and they couldn't risk the Tyrells marching an army up the Ocean road from the South and reinforcing the Lannister forces.

That night Aegon entered into his shared tent with Lilith and found her busily scrawled some sort of ritual circle into the ground. She used her wand to burn the markings for the ritual into the dirt, and a quick examination of the ritual circle revealed it to be a transportation ritual. Sort of like how ancient witches and wizards could teleport using a floo network.

She was just finishing up with the last few marking when he entered.

He gaze the ritual a look and then turned his curious gaze onto her.

"I'm curious about something." Lilith hummed as she placed the last markings and rose to her feet. With a wave of her hand, the marking on the ground began to glow. She then turned towards a nearby mirror and spoke into it.

"Begin." Lilith commanded.

A few quiet moments passed, when suddenly fire erupted from the ritual circle, and from the flames emerged a quivering mess of a mass.

He was familiar, sharing many facial similarities with Aegon's father, Rhaegar Targaryen. It took him only a moment before he recognized where he had seen this man before.

"Viserys Targaryen." Aegon hummed, kneeling before the quivering man.

"So Dathrag was right? This is one of your little creations." Lilith noted, earning a nod and then a curious look from Aegon, as he processed her words.

"Where did Dathrag come across a Targaryen? Last I had heard, Daenerys Targaryen, my biological aunt had conquered Meereen as was now being counseled by one of the Istari. There was no mention of her older brother though." Aegon stated as he examined the pitiful excuse for a man, cowering before him.

"They found him out in the Dothraki Sea. Limbs Broken, screaming his heart out. They took him back to Arcem Ossa, but he was far too damaged to be overly useful to us any longer, and they did not know he was a Targaryen. Dathrag was testing to see if he could possess a human body without destroying it, and this man was the only survivor. All the others burned away, but this one..." Lilith explained, earning a nod from Aegon.

"So why did you bring him here?" Aegon inquired as he continued to examine the broken thing that was once his uncle.

"I wanted to see if you could possess him. If he can maintain some of your power, like he did Dathrag's, you could use him as an Avatar of sorts. I doubt he could maintain more than a fraction of your power, but he'd have access to enough to overpower almost any foe he encountered." Lilith responded, kneeling next to him.

A curious look passed over Aegon's face as he examined the broken man. After several long moments, a smirk touched at his face and he rose to his feet.

Around Aegon's neck, he wore a locket. This locket was actually a holding space that contained the rings of power he had helped to forge, including the Nine rings, as well as the Three Greater Rings he had recovered. He opened the locket and removed one of the three rings, one of the two that wasn't bonded yet, like the one for the Iron Titan.

With a smirk, he gently placed the ring onto Viserys' finger. And in an instant he stopped twitching. Normally, Aegon could have sat back and let the ring run it's course. Viserys would recover and eventually become a wraith. But that wasn't the plan here, and Viserys himself had done nothing to earn such power. As a person he was a weak and pathetic individual, his most important trait, was the power in his blood.

Aegon watched with vicious glee, as corruption began to spread throughout Viserys' veins. Almost as if someone had exchanged his blood for oil, his veins began to turn color, spreading up his arm and across his body.

Aegon's eyes ignited into hellish flame, as the blackness reached Viserys' heart. He watched, as the whites of the man's eyes bled black, and his pupils began to glow a fiery orange.

Aegon allowed his magic and will to pour into the man, through his connection to the ring he wore, he used his ties to empower the man's body, seeing just how far he could push it.

Blackness began to eek out of every pour of the fallen Targaryen's body. His skin darkened, almost as if it was being burned from within. Soon, the once pale skinned man, had skin like burned embers. Burned black, the exterior of his flesh became hard, and began to crack, revealing orange flames within.

For a moment, Aegon expected the body to give out, but after several moments, the changes settled, and the body ceased it's transformation.

Viserys looked like a burn victim now. A hellish reflection of a man, charred black by the might of Sauron. And yet… just as Dathrag had said, his body did not give out. Aegon had definitely pushed more power into the man, than the Balrog had, and he had permanently marred his form, and yet…

"It's still alive." Lilith cooed.

"Yes. It is." Aegon grinned viciously.

His eyes began to glow brighter, and as they did, shadow erupted from Viserys' body, shaping around the man's form. It lashed out at the room, knocking over things, and tearing through hanging cloth. He even let his power loose on Lilith earning a playful growl from her, as the shadows assaulted her form, tearing at her clothes, but leaving her flesh unmarred.

She playfully glared at him, taking great pleasure in burning power that danced across her flesh.

He smirked back at her, allowing his power to retreat, as she repaired his gown.

Slowly the shadows retreated into the charred body, that stood there, unmoving.

"It cannot withstand much, but I can press a decent amount of power into it. I can see through it's eyes, hear through it's ears, even feel with it. It's sluggish, I wont be reacting very quickly with it, but it does have it's uses." Aegon noted, earning a chuckle from Lilith.

"You could send it to Valyria, use it to draw the attention of the Blue Wizard, keep him blind to our actions here." Lilith said as she circled the Dark Lord's newest avatar.

She ran her hand across the back of it's neck, and Aegon shuddered, feeling the sensation himself.

She smirked at that, getting back at him for tearing her gown.

"I could use it as a distraction…" Aegon stated, staring into his own reflection, meeting the gaze of his avatar. "But I think I have a better idea."

"Oh?" Lilith inquired.

"Yes… Arda…" Aegon replied, causing her to grin, devilishly.

"Oh… now that's a fun idea." Lilith noted, stepping up beside him and admiring this new tool of theirs.

This avatar would prove useful in the wars to come. With it, the Dark Lord could operate in two places at once. It would take a portion of his concentration away from what he was doing in Westoros, but the foes here were of little importance. He had yet to encounter a human here who was truly a threat. The old Valyrians were the greatest threat he'd encountered so far, and they were either destroyed, or were now his servants. He could use this avatar to begin moving in Middle-Earth, while also continuing his campaign here.

"Where will you send it?" Lilith inquired.

"To Dol Guldur. It will rejoin with the four Nazgûl that are there and work on king Thráin. The entrance to Erebor is sealed, yet I suspect that the old king knows of a way in. His mind may be near shattered, but I will suss out his remaining secrets, personally. If we wish for an audience with Smaug, we must gain entrance into the Lonely Mountain. An allegiance with that dragon will secure great power within the lands of Middle-Earth, and I will be close enough to the lands of the elves to begin drawing their attention. With their eyes on Dol Guldur, we can begin our conquest of the lands of Mordor. Taking back the lands that Gondor still holds." Aegon explained his idea. Lilith thought it over, and nodded in agreement. This Avatar wouldn't be winning any major battles, especially against skilled adversaries, but it could act as a blunt instrument of power, and interestingly enough, would give the impression of a Dark Lord, who had lost much of his strength.

This Avatar would lull the enemy into a false sense of superiority, meanwhile, they could deal with the blue wizard here, while any support he may be getting from Arda would in-turn be used against Aegon's Avatar.

Both lovers, shared a devilish grin, as they eyes their newest weapon. Soon the Westerlands would fall, and their conquest of Westoros, would continued, unabated. And with this Avatar, they would lay siege to Middle-Earth, drawing attention away from these lands.

With each passing day, the strength of the light faded, the power of darkness was on the rise.

**-Bree, Middle-Earth, at the same time-**

In the lands of Middle-Earth, a Grey Wizard met with a hardened dwarven king-in-exile, one who was destined to rule the kingdom of Erebor.

The two were busily chatting, as the Grey Wizard expressed his concerns about the dragon Smaug, and the need to reclaim the Kingdom under the Mountain. His concerns were reflected by the Dwarven King.

And with like minds, the two began a plan to reclaim the kingdom and defeat the dragon, setting events in motion that would lead the world into great peril.

If the Grey Wizard had known of the intentions of the enemy, he would have never considered such an option, unfortunately, the minds and the nature of this evil, lay beyond his reach, and he was left, only with the ability to react, and hope that his choices would lead to a brighter day.

**-Rivendell, at the same time-**

"You've traveled a long way." Elrond noted, his gaze being matched by that of the Blue Wizard Morinehtar, otherwise known as Alatar by the elves.

"I have news for the free peoples. A warning, brought to me by a servant of Manwë. The great eagle Gwaihir, came to us, to deliver a message from the West. We had sensed the departure of the Balrog in Moria, and this eagle carried word of it's destination. A world, outside of our own. Pallando volunteered to be sent there to aide the kingdoms of men against the Balrog and report back on what it was doing there. Those in the West never anticipated such a movement, and it is fear that this Balrog may form a dark kingdom of it's own, one that could possibly ally with Sauron." Alatar explained, his words drawing great concern from Elrond.

"I came here to ask that you summon the White Council. Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn know of my passage past their lands, and will no doubt answer the summons. The enemy is moving in a way we had not anticipated, and now… it is feared that Sauron may turn his eyes onto another world and use it, to amass power for an invasion of all of Middle-Earth." Alatar continued, earning a nod of understanding from Elrond.

"I will do as you say, and call for the White Council. They must know of this, and of speculations coming from the West." Elrond agreed.

Both individuals were united in their concern. An invasion from a world beyond Arda, such a threat would could bring about levels of destruction not seen since the War of Wrath. They needed more information, they needed a plan. If the enemy had found a way to another world, then there existed a chance they could find their way into West. Such a thing shouldn't have been possible, and yet, the fear of it, not existed in both of their hearts.

**-Meereen, Essos, around the same time-**

Rómestámo stood on a balcony of the Great Pyramid, staring out in the direction of Old Valyria. His gaze pressed far beyond the horizon though drew short of the peninsula itself, as he found himself blinded by shadow and darkness.

Behind him, his new ally in Daenerys Targaryen, gathered her council for another meeting. The threat was growing rapidly, he could feel it, and something had just occurred in the world, a minor yet noticeable outpouring of power. This power was familiar to him, it felt like the power of Sauron. Either the Balrog had managed to contact him, or the Dark Lord was here as well.

Darkness gathered in the ruins of Old Valyria, and the Blue Wizard was afraid. There was something about this world that reminded him of the past. An absence of hope, that was all too familiar. In his heart he heard her name. Voices chanting for her return. A terrible thought brewed in the back of his mind, and it only grew in intensity with each passing day.

The enemy was gathering strength, and Rómestámo feared the purpose behind it. Why was the Balrog here? What did Sauron want with this place? Why was he being reminded of her? Why did he hear Morgoth's name chanted in the darkest recesses of his mind?

"Rómestámo?" Came the voice of Ser Barristan.

The old wizard turned his gaze back to them, masking the uncertainty and fear he was feeling.

"Are you ready to begin?" Daenerys inquired curiosity dancing in her gaze.

"Yes, your grace. I am ready." The Blue wizard responded, taking the moment to allow his fears to fade and focus his attention on something he could focus on. There was a great mystery behind all of this, and it did not bode well for them, he was certain of it.

The Shadows grew in the West, and in his heart, he felt that war would soon be upon them. And all of the kingdoms of men, would face the wrath of darkness.

**-To be Continued-**

_**Alright there you go, hope everyone enjoys, added in a nice little lemon, and some bonding, Lilith's got a kinky side, and after tens of thousands of years being celibate, who wouldn't? Yes, the events of the Hobbit are about to begin, and I'm kinda going off the movie version rather than the book, so you know how it's gonna kinda play out in terms of events. Got any questions let me know, otherwise I'll see you in the next one.**_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Alright, here's the next chapter for you guys. Hope everyone is enjoying themselves. Deeper story to get into with this next chapter, everything is winding up for major war, i hope you all are ready for it. Any questions feel free to ask. Otherwise let's get this show on the road.**_

**Darkness Reborn**

Chapter 14: The Burning of the West

Screams erupted as villagers fled in advance of Aegon's army. Another village was sacked as his forces marched deeper into the Westerlands, closing in on Casterly Rock and Lannisport.

As they moved through the Westerlands, materials were gathered in preparation for a siege. Aegon had no intention of burning down the Rock, or the port, both were too valuable to destroy, and had something he wanted. Ships.

With control over the Lannister fleet, they could begin plans to attack the Iron Islands, and bring a retaliatory force to bare on Balon Greyjoy. That would also allow them to get rid of Theon as well, once the Greyjoys were defeated and he no longer had value as a prisoner, he'd most likely be executed for his crimes. For now though, he remained as a hostage in Riverrun, held there by Bolton men.

They encountered little resistance as they marched through the Westerlands, occasionally Lannister scouts would be caught and killed, or sent back to their masters with instructions to deliver warnings. It was obvious that Kevin Lannister intended to hold his ground at Casterly Rock and Lannisport. There he could split his forces between the two vital areas, both of which had access to the sea, meaning that Aegon couldn't cut them off, at least that's what Kevin thought.

He'd most likely only heard rumors about Aegon's dragon, and what it had done to the Golden Tooth. Considering they didn't leave anyone alive during that attack, not many knew about what had truly happened there outside of Aegon's army.

The plan, as far as most of his generals were concerned was to split their forces in two and have one force lay siege to the castle on the hill, preventing reinforcements from sallying forth from it's gates, while another force attacked Lannisport and took it. Once the port was taken their forces would reunite and attack the castle, where Aegon would use his dragon to break through it's defenses.

That was what everyone thought the plan was, though Aegon and Lilith had other ideas. Lilith intended to make a show of force at Casterly Rock, one that would see her new followers, serving her with blind obedience out of fear of her incredible abilities.

Aside from besieging the port and the castle, Aegon intended to have Umbra and Midir keep the ships from leaving either location. Any ship that tried to leave would be burned in sight of others, one after the next until they realized that they weren't leaving.

It wouldn't be long before the army arrived on the Lannister's doorstep, and when that happened, they would learn the price of enraging the wolves of winter.

**-King's Landing-**

Another day, another session of court. This one was markedly more refined than recent ones, due to the presence of Tywin Lannister and Margaery Tyrell. King Joffrey sat with a look of boredom, as he took in the day's audiences.

At the back of the room, a man drudged his way into the chambers, walking with such a noticeable limp that he immediately drew attention from those gathered around.

Slowly he made his way across the chamber until he collapsed to the ground in sight of Joffrey and Tywin.

The sight of the man caused Joffrey to straighten up in his seat, while several Lannister men moved towards the fallen man.

"Your grace… my lord hand…" The man muttered as he raised himself off of the floor, though remained half sitting. His appearance was heavily marred with mud and his right leg was dirtied with dried blood. Around his calf a brown strip of cloth had been tied around some sort of wound.

"What is the meaning of this?" Tywin demanded as two of his men, pulled the injured man to his feet.

"My lord… I came from the Golden Tooth. The enemy has breached the Westerlands!" The injured man proclaimed, earning surprise from the court. Tywin's eyes widened at that, and his face hardened.

"You're a man of house Lefford?" Tywin inquired.

"Yes, my lord hand. I was dispatched from the castle as the Stark army approached down the River Road. I barely made it a mile before I heard something roared in the skies. It was a dragon, my lord! A monstrous beast, bigger than a town! It fell out of the sky and burned the whole castle!" The Lefford man cried out, his face marred by hysterics.

Surprised whispers spilled out through the crowd of highborn lords and ladies.

Margaery Tyrell and her brother Loris, shared a look with one another at hearing that.

"The Golden Tooth has fallen?" Tywin asked, his voice cold and steely.

"Yes, my lord hand. I saw the flames consume it as we rode away. Myself and two others, meant to deliver warnings to the Rock, and King's Landing. Enemy scouts found us as we rode away, peppered us with arrows. They were riding on the backs of giant wolves… the howling and the roaring… I was the only one who made it away, but I caught an arrow in the leg. The passage west was cut off, so I rode here as fast as I could to warn you, and the King. The enemy marches on the Rock, even as we speak." The Lefford soldier answered, his voice tired and haunted.

Tywin was silent as he took in this information, after several moments he spoke.

"Grand Maester Pycelle, due look after this man. See to it that his wounds are tended to. I wish to speak to him again once he is of clearer mind." Tywin ordered, earning a quick nod from the old man as he rose from his seat and motioned for the two guards to help carry the wounded man out of the chamber.

Tywin slowly turned away from the lords of ladies of court, his face hardened, and his eyes filled with focus. For a brief moment his gaze fell over Tyrion and Cercei, both of whom did not hide the concern in their eyes.

"We must gather for a Small Council meeting immediately." Tywin commanded after a moment of silence.

A half hour later, and the Small Council was gathered to discuss this recent news.

"The young dragon's army is moving much faster than we anticipated." Varys noted, once the council was assembled. "Word has reached my ear that Aegon has sent a small army to retake Castle Pinkmaiden and to attack the Gold Road."

"This isn't good. They are moving much faster than we anticipated. We must determine a way to halt their advance, if they take Casterly Rock and Lannisport, what does that say about us? If House Lannister cannot even defend it's own lands, than how are we to defend the remaining kingdoms?" Tyrion stated, earning a nod of agreement from Mace Tyrell.

"Yes, we must find a way to halt them at once. If the Westerlands fall into the enemy's hands, how long before they march on the Reach and attempt to cut us off from supplies?" Tywin agreed, his words causing Lord Tyrell to go stiff as he realized that his own lands would then be in danger.

"Well I could send word to my son Willas and command him to raise an army to help aid the Westerlands." Mace Tyrell suggested, knowing that with his daughter due to marry King Joffrey, it simply wouldn't do to sit by and allow half of the king's royal family to be attacked. That would bring to question this new alliance, and lord Tyrell still held faith in Tywin's cunning and his ability to beat this upstart dragon.

"That might work, a siege on the Rock would take months, possibly even longer." Cercei offered in response, while Tywin reflected on the offer.

"Not if what the Lefford man says is true. We still don't have an accounting of the enemy's forces. It could be twenty thousand, it could be fifty thousand, but according to the man, a dragon set upon the Golden Tooth. I don't think I need to remind anyone what happened the last time we thought that a castle could withstand a dragon attack." Tyrion countered, reminding everyone of Harrenhal. The thought made Cercei fidget uncomfortably as she imagined her girlhood home, reduced to nothing more than a ragged burned out ruin, just like the once great fortress.

"If the boy has any intelligence, he wont set fire to either location. Lannisport is a valuable strategic location, especially if he wishes to attack the Iron Islands, and the Rock is a symbolic victory. It would mean far more if he captured it, rather than burning it." Tywin stated, placating Cercei, though Tyrion stared back at his father, not believing his words, and noting that Tywin himself did not believe it.

"Whatever we choose to do, it must be done with haste. Word has reached my ears that Aegon has garrisoned forces at Harrenhal, and along the roads leading into the Crownlands, the corpses of Frey Men have been found, skinned and headless, hung upside down at random intervals along the roads." Varys informed them all.

"There is also another danger… beyond the attack on the west. The Martells. If Aegon's campaign turns against our favor, they may seek to join the young Targaryen in his attack. As far as we know he's unmarried, so there's the opportunity for a political alliance. With that being said, simple revenge has always been a good enough motivation for the Dornish, and they have more reason to hate us then most." Tyrion noted as well, locking eyes with his father. Tywin stared back, unblinkingly for several long moments before offering the smallest of nods in agreement.

"Yes they could betray us at any moment, and they have my daughter thanks to you." Cercei agreed, sending a hellish glare Tyrion's way.

"We have to keep a close eye on Prince Oberyn. If he disappears suddenly I want to know about it. If he starts acting strangely I will hear of it." Tywin commanded, Varys nodding in response.

"We still have the Stark bitch as a hostage. We should send word to the dragonspawn that if he continues his campaign into the Westerlands, pieces of her will start to follow." Joffrey suggested, his offer earning a glare from Tyrion, while Tywin considered the option.

"Your grace, lady Sansa is your aunt by marriage." Varys noted.

"It was just a jest, Joffrey did not mean it." Cercei tried to defuse the situation.

"Yes I did. The Starks no longer have Uncle Jaime, so why should we care what happens to her?" Joffrey reasoned.

"Enraging the dragon's has never worked out very well for anyone. Not to mention most of our family is at Casterly Rock and Lannisport. How long until they have Uncle Kevin or Aunt Genna, how long until they have half of house Lannister in their clutches. Then what will happen to your threats? There's far more Lannisters for them to torture then there are Starks for us to. As far as the enemy knows, we still have Sansa and Arya. The moment they realize we only have Sansa, they will be furious, beyond measure. And to learn that we married her to me, of all people… well, we'd best hope the Lefford man was delirious, because I remember Aegon, I traveled with him up to the Wall and I remember him at Winterfell. If he loves his family like the rest of the Starks do, then any harm we bring onto Sansa he'll return a hundred fold." Tyrion warned, glaring openly at Joffrey who glared right back.

"There is also the danger of him turning his wrath onto your subjects your grace. One cannot be king of a kingdom that no longer exists." Varys offered as a warning of his own, knowing full well that the people would flock to Aegon's side, if only to avoid his wrath. If Joffrey provoked the Dragon King, it would only lead to suffering and chaos for them. Right now, Sansa was their most valuable piece to use against him, removing her from the board greatly reduced their chances of victory.

"For now, we must keep Sansa close. Until Aegon Targaryen is dealt with, she will be our shield against his dragon." Tywin commanded after a moment, earning a relative sigh of relief from Tyrion, though Joffrey didn't like it.

"For now, we must focus on securing our borders. Lord Tyrell, send word to your son and command him to raise an army in the Reach. Me must maintain our supply lines at all cost, and prepare to send a raven to Casterly Rock, we must warn them of this new development and coordinate a plan." Tywin ordered earning nods from those present.

It seemed clear to everyone that the War of the Five Kings was now back on in full swing.

**-The Westerlands, two weeks later-**

Lilith moaned in delight as she reached her peek, she felt Aegon pull out and lift her up onto her knees where he began to massage her clit as she came.

She sank into his embrace and let out a laugh as he continued to massage her center and began to kiss at her neck.

Lilith let out a playful growl as she reached between her legs and began stroking his slick member earning a husky grunt from her lover.

Lilith smirked as she began to roll her hips, and press Aegon's cock against her throbbing cunt. She was able to get a few repetitions in, before she moved her hips forward so that his tip was poised at her entrance.

He wasted no time in entering her, lifting her a bit as he slipped into her folds. Lilith leaned forward, placing her hands onto the cool grass as Aegon grabbed her hips and began to thrust into her, quickly and aggressively.

The two continued for several minutes, Aegon taking her roughly, and Lilith reciprocating, bouncing back against his thrusts.

Lilith soon began to balance herself on one hand and use the other to rub her clit, urging her orgasm to begin building once more. This continued for another two minutes before Aegon roughly pulled out of her, earning a growl of displeasure from Lilith.

She wasn't upset for long as he flipped her onto her back and lay in the grass beside her, his lips finding their ways to her nipples, while his hand found it's way between her legs.

Lilith bit her lip and shook as his fingers rapidly thrust in and out of her opening. He was able to locate her most sensitive depths, and when he did he pulled away from her breasts and moved down to her clit, taking the small nub in his lips, kissing and licking at it as he thrust his fingers in and out of her.

Lilith soon began bucking wildly as she reached her peek once more, cumming hard and with a cry of pleasure, her hands digging into the grass as her body spasmed from the sweet throws of release.

Aegon let out a breath, and met her in a searing kiss. Lilith smiled into the kiss, as one hand encircled his head, slipping into the dark locks of hair and holding him close. Her other hand quickly found it's way to his cock, using her own fluids to lubricate him, she quickly stroked his cock, eager to get him to his second release of the night.

Aegon grunted and pulled back from the kiss, though Lilith continued to stroke him, staring deep into his eyes as she did.

Aegon grinned at her for a moment before reaching between her legs and running his fingers along her wet center. After a few moments of gently caressing her, he removed his fingers from her and brought them up to her lips, where she immediately took them into her mouth.

Aegon stared at her for a moment taking in the sight, before smiling and laying back in the grass, Lilith stared down at him for a moment, before smiling as well. She began to move, climbing on top of him, placing her legs on either side of his head while she lowered her body on top of his. She felt his head between her legs, his lips beginning to kiss at her clit, as she continued to stroke his cock. After a moment she took it into her mouth, allowing his member to sink deep into her throat.

The two continued this way for a few minutes until Aegon's breath grew ragged and his body began to twitch.

Lilith didn't slow down as she felt his hips begin to shake, and soon he let out a groan and released into her throat.

Lilith drank down his release greedily, earning a moan from her beloved brother as he finished his release.

After several moments, she pulled back and rolled off of him, letting out a musical chuckle as she turned her eyes up to the night sky.

She could hear Aegon shuffle, moving around to lay next to her.

Both lovers spent a few moments staring up at the night sky, admiring how bright and full of stars it was.

"We should be getting back soon." She heard Aegon noted.

"Always work with you." Lilith let out a sigh.

"I'm a busy body, you know that. Besides… you're either going to go to sleep out under the stars, or in the warm comfort of our bed, either way your desires are well known to me." Aegon responded, both still staring up at the stars.

"You could just go back, leave me here to enjoy the night sky." Lilith replied, her eyes catching a shooting star streaking through the night sky.

"I'm not going to leave you out here by yourself." Aegon stated.

"Worried something may happen to me?" Lilith inquired, amused at the thought that anything could cause her trouble in this world.

"No. But it simply wouldn't be right to leave my beloved alone in the forest, naked and cold." Aegon said to her as he rolled onto his side and looked down at her.

Lilith smiled at him, enjoying his attempts at being romantic. He was a busy body, and their army would arrive at Casterly Rock by midday tomorrow so she understood his need to keep busy. Still she did like that he was willing to put that aside and spend time with her if she wanted him too. In the end, that was what ultimately mattered. If the two desired it, they could leave this all behind. Venture off into the great unknown, build a simple life with one another.

It was an amusing thought. But that wasn't them. Maybe long ago, when he was still Harry Potter, and she was someone far different. The two of them had changed since then, they were harder, stronger, more ruthless, they had ambitions beyond simply living. Lilith wanted to rule all of creation and get revenge on the man who ruined her life. Aegon wanted to bring order to the chaos of the world around him. He saw all of the carnage and bloodshed, all of the pointless conflicts and he reviled it. Chaos, for chaos's sake was an ideal that Aegon simply did not agree with, and never would.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" Aegon inquired as he reached out ran his fingers along her cheek, brushing several loose strands of hair away from her eyes.

"Oh yes. I've been waiting a long time to flex my powers. Let tomorrow be the first of many such showings." Lilith replied, leaning into his touch.

"It'll be good to see you return to form. I have longed to see you in action once again." Aegon said to her, offering a smile which she returned.

"Let us get back to our army, and set about our final tasks, tomorrow we show the world what true war is." Lilith stated, earning a nod from Aegon. The two quickly dressed, and took a few moments to take in the grassy field they had found in the forests not far from the ruins of the Golden Tooth. It was a quiet place, and one they would return to in the future, as it had filled them with good memories.

After a few moments to take in this gentle place, the two apparated back to their army, arriving at the location where they had left their horses. They quickly mounted the beasts and set about riding, quickly catching up to the massive force and setting about final preparations for the assault.

During the night, Lilith set forth drawing great black clouds into the sky overhead. Under normal circumstances, orcs did not do well in sunlight, it weakened them and cloudless days were near blinding, so often Lilith's and Aegon's mere presence would fill the sky with dark blue clouds, often leaving the impression of rain, though it rarely came. The shadows were enough to urge the army forward especially with their masters at the helm, but now that it came to a true battle, they would need every advantage.

The rising of the sun almost went unnoticed as blackened clouds spilled out over the sky, as the army marched upon Lannisport and Casterly Rock.

The large port city and the massive castle, both stood as imposing sights to the advancing army.

"Casterly Rock..." Robb muttered eyeing the towering castle with a bit of trepidation. It was far larger than he had imagined, and far more imposing than even the stories of it spoke.

Casterly Rock was a large castle, it's main keep was situated at the top of a large rocky hill overlooking the sea. This structure towered above Lannisport which sat less than a mile to the south, and even it's main entrance sat hundreds of feet below the main keep.

In order to assault the Rock, one would need to first attack the Lion's Mouth gate. An external defensive structure carved out of an earthen cavern made to resemble a snarling lion. This cavern alone was two hundred feet high, and filled with defensive structures including a wall and gatehouse guarding the entrance into the cavern. Once you fought your way through the Lion's Mouth you then had to cross a long bridge to actually assail Casterly Rock's lowest defenses. The bridge crossed a long drop to the stone below, and was wide enough for about twenty horse riders to cross in line.

While the main keep sat high on top of the stone hill, it's defenses stretched down the hill facing east, crisscrossing in levels down the hill to settle at the bridge crossing from the Lion's Mouth.

These layered defenses, plus the bridge, and tall cavern ensured that siege weapons would basically be useless when it came to attacking the castle, the only way through was to brute force your way with a battering ram, but that only guaranteed access to the first level. Once in, you'd have to fight your way up the defenses, watching out for the numerous hidden entrances into the mines nestled below the castle where enemy soldiers would no doubt be waiting to storm out and assault any passing forces.

Far below, at the base of the hill was a large natural cavern carved into it by the sea. Within was a decent sized port, filled with ships, and soldiers. With this route to the sea, the only way to starve out the inhabitants was a blockade by land and by sea, and the nearby port city, would make things doubly difficult as one position would provide support for the other.

Lannisport itself was a large, walled city. It's gatehouses were reinforced, it's walls high and made of stone. Watchtowers guarded the city from attack, ensuring that any enemy force would be spotted long in advance of an engagement.

It would take an army, roughly the size of the one that Aegon and Lilith had at the moment, to initiate such an endeavor as taking both castle and city. And even then, most would have been hesitant to mount such an attack knowing how difficult and costly it would be. Without the dragons, and other great beasts within their army, many would have counseled against attacking the Rock and Lannisport.

"Truly a marvelous sight." Aegon hummed at the sight of the castle, remembering it's splendor from long ago when he and Lilith had traveled these lands.

"It will soon be ours to enjoy to at our leisure." Lilith noted with a smirk.

"First we must take it." Robb said to them, drawing both out of their reverie.

"Yes. Lord Robb, give the order for twenty thousand of our men to form a defensive line around the entrance to the Lion's Mouth. Midir and Umbra will take to the sea and stop their ships from leaving." Lilith commanded, earning a quick nod from Robb.

"The rest of our forces will march on the port. It'll be the easier of the two to take, and it's resources will help aid us in the battle to come. Order the siege masters to set out the materials per my exact instructions. They will understand my meaning." Aegon ordered as well, their generals quickly setting out to fulfill their task.

"The Port wont last long once trebuchets and siege towers are up. We gathered enough lumber to build a hundred damn stone throwers." The Greatjon noted to his son as they set about their duties.

Overhearing him, Aegon and Lilith smirked.

Over the course of the next few hours, materials were set out at the siege line around Lannisport. To the intrigue of many of Aegon's generals, a multitude of supplies had been set out in a rather large groupings, about eight to be exact. This was confusing to many of the more experienced Northern and Riverland generals as these supplies were far too clustered to be used for just trebuchets, unless of course Aegon intended to build trebuchets that were taller than any seen before, but such a project would take weeks, months even.

"My Lords… come, allow me to show you the skill of your future queen." Aegon had commanded his war council several hours later, as the battle line was established.

His generals followed him out of the command tent, whispering curiously amongst themselves. They came to one of the large stacks of materials, gathered on good placing surrounded by orcs, men, and olegs.

Waiting for them was Lilith whom had taken to examining the pieces and preparing herself for this delicate showing of magic.

"I know you've been curious about what we intend to build with all of these materials. Allow our lady to show you." Aegon stated as everyone gathered.

Aegon offered Lilith a nod, and she let out a chuckle, drawing forth her wand to aid in the delicate nature of this magical act. It wasn't necessarily needed, but it was far easier to focus on more minor details if she used her wand to aid her, and this was meant to impress the observing lords, so the quicker she could accomplish the task, the better the result.

So with that in mind, she gestured with her wand, aiming it at the collection of materials. Then with an upward flick, these objects began to lift off the ground. Slowly, deliberately, nails, rope, wooden beams and planks rose up into the air.

Gasps of awe rose up from the crowd as Lilith raised the several tons of material into the air, she ran her eyes over them all and then smirked. With another gesture, pieces began to move into place.

Aegon couldn't hide his grin as over the next few minutes, the mighty war machine he had designed, rose up before them.

As Lilith set about constructing the war machine, she wove spells into it's construction, strengthening it, and filling it with a vile magic that would terrorize and ultimately weaken the enemy's defenses.

A few other basic spells were need, special sizing charms to increase the size of certain parts, while other charms increased the weight. It took almost twenty minutes for Lilith to finish, as she took her time, ensuring that every detail was to Aegon's exact specifications.

As she finished, she let out a chuckle and took a step back, admiring the massive war machine that now towered above them.

There, now standing before them, was the largest trebuchet any man had ever seen. It was built in the spirit of Ludgar, the War Wolf. This mighty war machine towered over the surroundings, and could easily hurl stones close to four hundred pounds.

Normally, such a construction would be costly, and take an incredible amount of time, but with the aid of magic, and Lilith's understanding of creation, it was easy for her to shape and reform certain basic objects, imbuing them with magic and altering their properties. She infused magics that made the structure of the trebuchet more resilient to damage, she increased the weight and density of normal stones, turning them black, and making them fit to act as the proper counter-balance for the war machine.

Such things were simple for the one who had once held knowledge over all aspects of creation. Lilith, as Melkor had learned quite a bit about all there was to creation, and while she would never be as good at certain things, as the masters of those particular arts, she was exceptional.

Lilith's creations may never be as splendid as those made by her counterparts among the rest of the Valar, but they didn't have to be. Lilith's abilities were such that her own personal creations far outweighed what could be accomplished by mortals, and her powers were such that if she ever saw something she coveted that the other Valar had made, she would simply need to reach out her hand, and take it.

As she would when she returned to Arda. During her first war against the Valar, her powers had been limited, finite, everything she did, expended part of her, and by the time the war had ended, she was a shadow of her former self. Such a thing had obviously been intentional, a precaution Eru had placed to keep his creations in line. No matter what they did, no matter how hard they tried, eventually evil would diminish.

He would have no such advantage this time. Lilith's abilities had been restored along with her memories, and now she was free to unleash her full power, and this battle would see such powers shown to all.

She took a moment to admire Aegon's creation. She understood the spirit of it's design, though it had been improved based on his own ideas, as well as those taken from his enemies. A siege engine of terrible power.

A towering trebuchet, infused with malevolent magics, and manned by a team of trolls, led by an orc siege master. Enough materials had been gathered, that with the aid of magic, Lilith could construct eight. One would have been more than enough to bring down the walls of Lannisport, but Aegon intended for them to break under the force of this siege, long before any of their servants stormed through the breach.

With a content smirk, Lilith moved onto the next, and for the next two hours she patiently raised these great trebuchets.

After the creation of the first, an emissary was sent from Lannisport to try and parlay, but he was denied a meeting, Aegon had no intention to parlay and would accept nothing less than a full and unconditional surrender.

By mid-afternoon, the final siege engine was up.

And by nightfall, munitions had been set up.

"Let us hope that Ser Kevin is watching. I want him to feel the walls closing in on him." Aegon began, mounted on the back of a horse alongside his generals. In the far distance the sky lit up with flames as Midir scorched a ship that attempted to flee the port. This had been the fifth throughout the day, and each time Aegon felt his anticipation grow. He wanted those ships, and now it was time to claim them.

In total the actual Lannister fleet consisted of only a few dozen vessels. Around thirty or so, but there was also merchant vessels within the harbor, and the harbor itself had the capacity to construct ships, all of it was valuable to their war effort, and now it was time to claim their first great prize of this war.

"Lord Edmure, in honor of all your people, murdered, raped, and brutalized by the Lannisters, I ask that you give the command." Aegon offered after the anticipation reached it's peak.

Offering a determine nod, Edmure Tully turned his gaze over to one of the siege masters. "Bring down their walls." He commanded.

"Yes, my lord! Light!" The orc siege master commanded, one of the trolls ignited the projectile, and a few moments later, the final command came. "Release!"

With that, the flaming projectile was released from the towering siege engine. The remaining seven immediately followed suite. Five of the eight flaming projectiles sailed over the city walls and lit up the darkness of the night as they crashed into buildings. The remaining three struck hard against the outer walls of the city.

To the amazement of many an observer, from what could be seen in the darkness, one section of the walls immediately began to collapse. The sheer power behind these massive war machines meant that nothing short of magically infused walls could hope to withstand their onslaught.

Roars of approval went up from the crowd as the troll teams setup for another volley.

"With siege engines this powerful the external defenses wont last long." Robb said from his place by Aegon's side.

"You're right. We'll keep hammering them until we clear most of the defenses around the main gate, then we'll have the rolls batter it down and storm inside. Come dawn, we'll have demoralized the defenders." Aegon responded. "In the meantime. Let's give them something to fear."

With a command, a loud horn was blown. Quickly more horns joined it and soon the army began to chant. Sometimes in unison, sometimes sections would spew forth their own vitriol, but the army began to hurl vile and cruel insults towards the defenders of Lannisport, filling the air with thousands of voices.

The orcs and uruks were the first to begin, though howling men began to join them quite quickly.

As their chants filled the air, the next volley was prepared, and flaming projectiles were flung into the city.

This bombardment lasted for several long hours. The design of Aegon's war machines allowed them to be rotated on their placement, it was a slow, cumbersome task, but they could alter their trajectory, this meant by midnight, well over half of the towers facing the east, were knocked down, and there were multiple holes in the walls.

Most of these hole were plugged with debris, and thus weren't feasible for entrance.

The gatehouse that led into the port had received significant damage, with the outer portcullis torn wide and the gate itself blown open from a direct hit which took most of the night up to that point, to achieve.

The strikes against the gatehouse had knocked out the outermost defenses, but the internal gate was most likely still sealed, and probably had a portcullis of it's own, providing one more layer of defense.

The Lannisters did not skimp on displaying their might, so those defenses would be of the highest quality.

The easternmost section of the port was in flames, and those flames provided some of the only light in the darkness of the night, with clouds covering whatever illumination the moon may provide.

"The time has come, I believe." Aegon noted as another volley was loosed onto the city.

"I agree." Lilith hummed as she basked in the death and destruction around her.

"They've received sufficient demoralization, and we dare not wait longer, lest their despair turn to rueful resistance." Aegon noted, drawing forth the attention of his generals.

"We must hit them hard and fast to avoid them intentionally destroying whatever supplies may reside within." Roose Bolton agreed.

"Yes. Gothmog will lead the charge into the city. He will personally break through the gatehouse and allow our forces within. Two additional forces of goblins, caragors, and spiders will storm through the breaches made along the eastern walls. Once within you will carry out your assigned tasks. Gothmog will lead the charge, directing our main force right into the heart of the port. Lord Robb will take his cavalry and a force of uruks and push through whatever openings are available and attack the harbor itself. Lord Edmure will take two thousand of our soldiers and secure the southern gatehouse, once that is done he'll move towards the harbor to aid Robb in his attack. While Gothmog leads the charge against the bulk of whatever forces lay within the city, I will personally seek out the enemy commander, with his capture or death, the enemy forces will break and surrender. We charge after the next volley." Aegon commanded his forces.

Everyone quickly set about their tasks, and as the next volley of flaming projectiles was launched, the shadowy figure of Gothmog erupted into flames as he swelled in size and assumed a larger, more draconic form.

The mighty Balrog placed his hands upon the ground, and for a moment all stilled, then with a roar, he dug his fingers into the dirt, and pulled free a great earthen axe. Fire erupted within it, burning the weapon black, and super heating the air around it.

Gothmog lifted the axe high above his head and let out a hellish roar before charging forward.

In unison, thousands of orcs, goblins, uruks, and trolls, roared in unison, they were quickly joined by their mannish companions, as blood lust and fury filled the veins of every warrior within their ranks.

Aegon drew his sword and was one of the first to give chase after the mighty Balrog.

He was quickly followed by thousands.

Lilith held back, smirking to herself. As her army rushed towards the city she turned her eyes up to the castle upon the hill. Letting out an almost musical chuckle she turned away from the city and made her way up towards the castle. It would be a few hours still but once the port fell, the attack on the castle would follow only hours later.

And the opening move of that attack was hers to make. She would need to decide what great showing she would offer to her servants.

It was the intention of both her and her beloved Aegon that when this battle was over, no one would dare question her might.

Lilith smiled as she rode away from the city. Musing on the future, and the days when Aegon would cast aside his self-appointed limitations and unleash his full might alongside her. She most definitely hungered to see the day, for now though, it was her time.

Gothmog's target was to breach the gate. The great demon had two options for doing it, one was to compress his size and charge right through the gatehouse and out the other side, the second option was to go over the gatehouse.

Deciding on the latter, the fire demon stretched out it's wings and with a mighty flap, he rose high into the air, soaring over the walls as the army at his back raced behind him, watching in awe of his actions.

Just as had been expected, the gatehouse had an inner gate, and an inner portcullis. Surrounding the internal gateway was a force of Lannister troops, assembled alongside a gathering of city guards. They could hear the enemy charging and were awaiting the assault on the inner gate. The damage to the walls and towers made it almost impossible for archers to find many places to fire back. Only a handful of men even remained on the walls, and many of them were trapped, due to the damage done to the towers or the walls itself.

Screams came down from the those on the walls, trying to warn those below, but few heard their cries.

Instead, they felt what was coming, long before they heard it, or saw it.

Heat washed over them, and quickly grew in intensity. Slowly the area began to grow brighter and brighter, until a rush filled the air, and from the sky, something descended among them, slamming down with incredible force, sending dozens of men to the ground while others were turned to ash, as flames erupted out from the towering entity.

With a hellish roar and a mighty swing, Gothmog drove his axe into the internal gate. Flaming stone hewed through metal and wood, cutting through iron bars, and timber planks. One great slash had torn a hole through the gate itself and melted through a large part of the portcullis.

Using his free hand the Balrog reached through the hole he had made in the gate and grabbed onto the bars of the portcullis, with a growl he ripped the metal defense apart sending bars flying through the air.

By now most of the guards had risen to their feet and were fleeing from the demon.

It took only a few more seconds for the portcullis to be torn apart and the inner gate to be ripped free from it's hinges.

The first through the gate were the cavalrymen, Gothmog quickly led them after the fleeing guards.

Forces began to spill over the walls and many bottle-necked as they pushed through the ruined gate.

Aegon's army washed into the city, cutting down anyone who got in their way. The battle quickly turned to chaos as Lannisport was sacked. Men and women were dragged out of their homes, kicking and screaming, buildings were looted, whole streets were pillaged. Anyone who resisted was killed as the battle raged on.

By dawn it was over. The port had been captured and the ships within were ordered to dock or be burned by dragonfire. In total twenty seven warships were seized as well as over two dozen merchant vessels.

Many a distant cousin of house Lannister were captured during the attack, and most of the garrison and city guard were put to the sword. As the darkness grew lighter, the sun rising behind the black clouds in the sky, Aegon found himself sitting on a piece of rubble, wiping the blood from his sword while prisoners were corralled and buildings were looted around him.

"The battle seems to be over." Benjen noted as he stepped up beside his nephew.

"That it does. The easier of the two is now out of the way. Tomorrow the hard part begins." Aegon responded as he sheathed his sword and rose to his feet. His armor was caked in blood and grime, and his face blackened by ash and soot from the flames.

His uncle shared in his reflection, both looking terrible, yet neither feeling the drain of the battle due to their unique gifts.

"We'll give the men a day and night to rest, tomorrow we take Casterly Rock." Aegon stated, turning his gaze up towards the nearby castle that overlooked the city.

Benjen followed his gaze up to the castle and let out a quiet sigh. He knew full well that this was the easy part, what came next would be far more difficult.

For the remainder of the day Lannisport was sacked, the damage done to the port was immense but it wasn't beyond repair. Aegon reorganized his forces and held a feast, stealing from the larders and storehouses of the city and butchering fresh meat, either that of wounded animals, or in the case of orcs, uruks, and the other vicious beasts, they were allowed to feed on the dead.

An unnerving sight to be sure, but the eventual consensus spread that letting the orcs eat the dead was better than having to bury, or burn them. So long as the men didn't have to watch, it was something that could be overlooked at the moment.

By nightfall most of the army left the city and marched up the hill to meet with those that had been left to oversee the blockade of Casterly Rock. A token force was left to hold the port while the rest prepared for the hardest battle of their campaign yet.

That night, Aegon gathered all of his generals.

"Plans have changed." Aegon began, "Now that I've seen Casterly Rock and it's defenses, breaching it with dragonfire will not be as easy as I first assumed. My Lady Lilith has offered another means of granting us access to the castle."

Many eyes turned towards the Dark Lady who stared down at them with an alluring and yet frightening smirk. Excitement danced in her hellish gaze, and it definitely set many on edge.

"What means can you provide my lady?" Robb was the first to ask.

"I will clear the way past the Lion's Mouth and offer our forces a direct opening to attack their walls. The hows are unimportant, all you need concern yourself with, is preparing your forces for the fight within." Lilith responded, her eyes glowing even brighter.

"She'll give us a way in. The Dragon's and the Nazgull will assault the defenders from the air. Goblins, and spiders will be held in reserve until we can push towards the main gates of each defensive position. Trolls will be useful for battering them down, and the goblins and spiders can rush over the defensive positions and keep them at bay long enough for the trolls to batter them down. We push through, layer by layer, level by level until we reach the main keep. There will be one of two outcomes as we close in on the final defensive position. The enemy will either turtle up, and we'll be forced to dig them out, or they will surrender." Aegon explained to his generals.

"Forgive me your grace, but why not just burn down the keep itself? I understand the network of defenses will make it harder for us to breach the castle with the aid of your dragons, but why not avoid a siege all together? Surely the destruction of the keep itself will demoralize the defenders enough to avoid a battle." Lord Edmure inquired.

"You are right lord Edmure, that would be easier. But… my reasoning for not doing so is two-fold. Firstly, Casterly Rock is a powerful defensive position, and can be used to defend the port. It would also strike the Lannister pride harder if we seized it and hung our banners from it, rather than just burning it down. Secondly, all anyone remembers about Aegon the Conqueror's conquest was his use of dragons. The Targaryen legend was born on dragons. I've shown their power at the Golden Tooth, I've shown my willingness to use them, now I intend to show the world the wrath of my army. Let it not be said that the Lannisters fell to dragons alone, but to the full might of this great host!" Aegon answered, his final words earning a cheer of agreement from orcs and Northmen. The Riverlords were a bit more timid but accepted his answer nonetheless.

"Taking the castle, as well as Tywin Lannister's family will also give us access to bargaining chips, that could be useful for a great number of things, such as ransoming Lady Sansa." Lilith hummed as well, her words earning a nod from Aegon, as well as Edmure and Robb, both of whom agreed that rescuing Sansa was paramount when they turned their attention onto the Crownlands.

"So… prepare your forces for a castle invasion. This fight will not be easy. I will personally lead the charge against our foes. If any of you have any further questions, seek me out before the night is done. Come dawn, we attack." Aegon informed them, dismissing his generals and turning his attention to Lilith.

"Are you ready?" Aegon asked.

"Oh yes, and I have the perfect plan in place. I know exactly how we're getting in." Lilith responded.

"Will you be joining us then?" Aegon inquired.

"Yes. I will fight by your side, my love. Together we will take this magnificent castle for our own." Lilith replied, offering him a smile that he returned.

"Well then, we should retire for the night, and rest. Come dawn, we raise hell." Aegon stated, his own eyes glowing a fiery orange.

Soon after, Aegon and Lilith found themselves resting. As they rested Aegon relayed the goings-on of his avatar in Middle-Earth. Shortly after it's creation, Aegon had sent it north, and through the portal back to Middle-Earth. Once there it traveled to Dol Guldur, where it took up command of the castle and began working alongside Azog the Defiler.

At his side were four of the nine Nazgûl lead by Khamûl the Easterling. From Dol Guldur, his Avatar began to work on forging an alliance with the spiders of Mirkwood as well as building up an army at the fortress.

The fortress itself had been repaired to a certain extent but those repairs were hidden from sight due to a concealment spell. Besides that, his Avatar also worked on Thráin the former dwarf king. Using his magics he began to torture the king, seeking to learn the secrets of the Lonely Mountain and the Kingdom of Erebor.

Controlling the Avatar was a strange feeling, one that Aegon still wasn't used to. It was like being in two places at once, and yet at one of those places, you moved like you were trying to slosh through hip-deep mud, and every reaction seemed to be on a time delay, like he was drunk.

It was a strange feeling and Lilith teased him about it.

It was as he was about finished explaining the recent events of his Avatar that something strange occurred.

Through his ties to his Avatar, he felt something powerful approach it.

Aegon sat up in bed, and focused his attention through his avatar, Lilith sensed something amiss and sat up beside him.

"What is it?" Lilith inquired.

"Aiwendil." Aegon whispered in response. "Radagast the Brown."

**-Dol Guldur, Middle Earth-**

The frightened and nervous Istari, slowly crept through the decrepit fortress. As he made his way deeper and deeper into it's recesses, he found himself being stalked by malevolent spirits.

This frightened him even more and he quickened his pace.

As he made his way forward, he felt a presence emerge from the darkness behind him.

Spinning around, the Brown Wizard was just in time to swat away a thrust by Khamul. The Nazgûl was armed with a Morgul blade, and he quickly took another swipe at the wizard.

Let out a frightened gasp, Radagast again blocked the strike, and drove his staff hard into the side of the Nazgûl releasing a burst of magical energy as he did. The power behind it was enough to momentarily dissipate the Nazgûl's ethereal form. The Morgul blade was all that remained of the weakened wraith.

Radagast retrieved the blade, picking it up and examining it. He suddenly felt a dark presence overtake his senses. He spun around, spotting three remaining Nazgûl rising from the ground, also in ethereal form. Emerging from a hallway between them, a living shadow. A pure black figure, seemingly made of darkness itself.

"_**Radagast!"**_ The Shadow hissed as it advanced on him.

In response the Brown Wizard let out a cry of terror and immediately fled from sight.

The Dark Lord stared after the fleeing wizard for several long moments before using his power to aid in reforming Khamûl's spirit. Being so far away from the actual dark lord, weakened the Nazgûl quite a bit, the presence of Aegon's Avatar was helping their powers to grow, but without their rings, and being so far from their master, they only possessed a fraction of their total power. They were also not garbed in their black cloaks, making them invisible to those who couldn't see into the Wraith-realm. Only when close to Sauron did their spirits appear, as they did now.

As the Lieutenant of Dol Guldur reformed by the Avatar's side, he let out a vile hiss in the Black Speech. "_Do we give chase?"_

"_**No. Let the coward flee. He will bring greater prey to us in the future."**_ The dark spirit hissed in response.

**-Casterly Rock, Westoros- **

"Well that's interesting..." Aegon noted, a smirk touching at his lips.

"What happened?" Lilith inquired.

"Had a visitor stop by Dol Guldur. Radagast the Brown. One of the Istari. He encountered the Nazgûl and my avatar. He fled though… I suspect to report what he found to his fellow wizards." Aegon explained.

"So your avatar is fulfilling it's purpose? Drawing the gaze of the enemy back to Middle-Earth?" Lilith noted.

"Indeed. It will be interesting to see what comes of this." Aegon replied as he cracked his neck and rose to his feet.

"Restless?" Lilith inquired.

"Yes. This new development has got me all wound up. I need to reflect on it. Rest now, my beloved. Go to the land of dreams and envision the world we'll build." Aegon said to her, earning a snort of amusement from Lilith but she did as he suggested as receiving a lustful and passionate kiss.

Aegon soon departed their tent, heading out to wander aimlessly as he thought on this newest development and how to best capitalize on it.

He spent the night wandering, spending most of the time in his own head, devising plans based on what Radagast's appearance could lead to. Before he knew it, his army began mobilizing as dawn quickly approached. Time was hard to determine due to the darkness of the night, though for a few brief minutes sunlight could be see on the horizon, signaling the start of a new day.

His army soon began mobilizing, they had been ordered to amass at the bottom of the hill leading up to the Lion's Mouth. The distance was quite extreme, far outside of the range of any siege weapons, or archers.

Yet it needed to be so, to avoid harm befalling his solders. Once his army was amassed, Aegon and Lilith took their position at it's lead.

All of the cavalry had been ordered to the rear of the army, they were now stationed the greatest distance away from the foe, again another concession that had to be made to avoid the beasts breaking and fleeing when Lilith unleashed her might.

Aegon stood alongside Robb, Roose and Ramsay Bolton, and the Blackfish as the leaders of the center of the army.

Lilith stood before them all, gazing up at the castle, her eyes alight with anticipation.

"Spread the word, everyone should drop to a knee and brace themselves, standing could cause them harm." Aegon ordered his men, as he lowered to a knee. His actions were quickly mimicked by his army, many dropping low to the ground, as the anticipation built.

"What is she going to do?" Robb whispered to him.

"Upend the earth." Aegon quietly responded, reverence evident in his voice.

Slowly, Lilith advanced, striding forward boldly and with unmatched pride. As she advanced, flames and shadows erupted out from her body, and from the chaos she emerged in her towering armored form. She appeared larger than she had the last time, standing at nearly twenty feet in height. A titan of terrible power.

Light began to flicker in the sky as lightning started to streak across it.

Low rumbles filled the air as thunder billowed out from the heavens.

The towering armored form of the Dark Lord advanced before her great army, her gaze fixed upon the Lion's Mouth far up the hill.

She continued to stride forward until she was almost fifty meters ahead of them.

Shadow and fire began to roll off of her body and out of her armor, slowly she began to extend her influence into the earth, pressing her power deep into the stone.

The sky began to grow brighter as the lightning grew more intense.

A low chant began to build among the orcs.

It started small, a few voices at once, but then it began to grow and spread. Louder and louder it grew as the dark army began to chant.

"_Morgoth! Morgoth! **Morgoth! Morgoth! **_**Morgoth! Morgoth! MORGOTH! MORGOTH!"** Louder and louder their roars became as the servants of darkness heralded their master's assault.

These chants continued, growing further in intensity. The lightning grew more intense and a red hue filled the heavens above them.

The clouds began to bleed red, as the clouds almost seemed to burn with flames.

The chants rose in volume as Lilith extended her arms, as if gesturing towards the Lion's Mouth. The action caused a pulse to rip out from her body, expanding out in all directions and silencing the chants.

The silence that fell over the land was near deafening, even the roar of thunder ceased.

Everyone stared in fixated anticipation, eyes wide, many beginning to shake unable to take the intensity of the moment.

"_Let us be reborn in this battle. The Lords of Darkness."_ Aegon whispered in the Black Speech.

"_**Let it be so my beloved Sauron."**_ Lilith's voice echoed within his mind, earning a devilish smile from the Dark Lord.

Lifting her arms into the air, the earth rose with it.

The hill before them lifted upwards, cracking and tearing filling the air, as the ground rose up.

The cavernous Lion's Mouth, collapsed in on itself as the walls splintered and the ground rushed up to meet the ceiling.

The shaking of the earth swept across the army, the few who'd chosen to stand were thrown violently to the ground, while those kneeling let out cries of terror and amazement.

The earth began to shift and move, upturning and heaving upwards.

The cavern that had once housed the Lion's Mouth, disappeared into a sea of dust and smoke as the world continued to shake.

The violent shaking continued for what felt like an eternity before it subsided.

When it did, the silence truly was deafening. Many were left staring straight down, unable to even lift their gazes as they endured the earthquake.

Aegon and Gothmog were the first to rise to their feet, taking in the wall of dust that hid the destruction that their Dark Lady had wrought.

Soon others began to rise, letting their gaze fall of the destruction.

Slowly, the dust began to roll off the hills down to the ocean below, as the dust retreated, the destruction that she had wrought was revealed.

The Lion's Mouth was gone, the whole towering cavern, vanished. The earth had been upturned and forced outward, to the amazement of all, a great land bridge now stretched out before them, rising right up to the top of the walls at the base of the Rock.

Just from what could be seen from a distance, it looked as if the gorge that had once separated the castle from the mainland, had been filled in, and now the earth formed a ramp, over a hundred meters across, that led right up to the ramparts of the castle. At most places where it met the wall, it would take little more than a large step to rise up onto the crenelations, and then onto the wall itself.

Aegon placed his helmet upon his head and turned his gaze towards his generals, all of whom were staring in dumbfounded amazement.

"Now you understand, against the kingdom of darkness… there can be no victory." He said to them, slowly drawing their gazes to meet his own.

"Such… power…" Ramsay Bolton stuttered out in disbelief.

"A sorcerers? This is no mere sorcery. This is the power of gods." The Blackfish uttered in dumbfounded amazement.

"Sound the horns… and let us see the Westerlands fall." Aegon commanded.

"Sound the horns!" Robb shouted after a moment to compose himself.

The order was quickly shouted through the ranks, and soon horns filled the air.

Aegon and his host began to advance first. He would lead the first vanguard, then Gothmog the main host, and Edmure Tully would command the cavalry to advance once the beasts could be brought back under control. The shaking of the earth had no doubt set many of them to fright.

Lilith fell in line with Aegon, her size reducing until she appeared to be her normal height, though still clad in armor. Her greatsword, and warhammer appeared in her hands, as Aegon drew his sword.

"_A truly astounding display my love."_ Aegon whispered into her mind.

"_I haven't had the chance to flex like that in ages. It felt so good..."_ Lilith replied, her voice filled with lust and excitement.

"Let us drown this castle in blood." Aegon stated as he began to charge, his forces quickly falling into line behind him as they raced up the hill.

Across the rough terrain they advanced at a brisk pace until they got within meters of the wall and broke into a full charge.

Once they broke into a charge, a terrible screech fell out of the heavens, as the Witch King led the Nazgûl in an aerial assault against the castle.

The wraiths and their Fellbeasts fell upon the defenders, sweeping across walls to snatch up archers, or ripping up siege weapons such as ballistae, scorpions, and other heavier weapons that would have been used to bombard the bridge leading across the chasm, had the Lion's Mouth been successfully breached.

The cry of the wraiths drove the defenders away in terror and filled the invading army with greater wrath which was soon amplified further as the Dark Lord and Lady prepared to unleash their rage against the defenders of the castle.

As one would expect, the defenders upon the wall were completely shattered by the otherworldly display of power that had just reshaped the land. The upending of the earth had been so loud that many of these men were bleeding from the ears, and lay in heaps upon the battlements, screaming and clutching at their heads.

Aegon's forces fell upon them quickly, cutting them down and putting them out of their misery. While forces quickly descended from the wall, Aegon, Lilith, Robb, and even Benjen simply leaped from the top of it, down into the courtyard below where many Lannister solders were in a similar condition to those on the wall.

The outermost defenses fell with incredible ease. Those few who weren't deafened by the earth slamming into the outer walls, were left completely broken by the unimaginable act they had just witnessed.

The fighting began to increase as they advanced deeper into the castle away from the external defenses.

Aegon fought alongside Lilith the two cutting down scores of Lannister men as they advanced deeper into the castle.

Whenever they encountered a blocked entrance or a barred gate, one of the two would simply blast it open with magic.

To keep up appearances, Aegon stuck to more basic spells, such as utilizing Bombarda to blast open locks, and Bombarda Maxima to blow large holes into gates, though aside from keeping his true powers limited, Aegon fought with incredible ruthlessness. Using his newfound skill with a sword, he would rush into groups of Lannister men, spinning and twisting as he lashed out with his sword, whenever his steel sword would snap, he would simply grab a new weapon from one of the dead.

As the battle raged on, Aegon went from a sword, to a spear, to two knives, to a mace, then back to a sword, then a sword and axe, before finally ending up with two swords.

Aegon and Lilith cut down countless soldiers as they fought together through the castle. At one point they had entered into the interior of the Rock itself, and fought within the passageways that led to the mines within.

Eventually they found their way back outside, where they continued to press up the castle's defenses.

At one point they passed Greywind tearing a Lannister Knight in half and were soon joined by Ghost who stalked alongside his master, joining them when they would encounter foes.

"You've shown decent skill with two blades." Lilith noted, as he blocked a two handed sword strike with one sword and stabbed out with the other, driving his blade straight through chainmail, and deep into the flesh of the soldier he was fighting.

He released his stabbing blade and simply took the one from the soldier, noting that he actually enjoyed using two swords. His strength, speed, and agility made it far more practical for him to use two blades. Even with one hand, he still hit harder than any human could, and he had developed his sword skills enough that he was actually halfway decent.

Perhaps he would have to refine his swordsmanship and learn to fight with two blades? It was definitely something to think about.

He offered his twin a look and let out a chuckle, which she returned.

Both quickly returned to the battle, fighting alongside their forces, cutting down swaths of defenders. It soon became clear that the most stalwart of Lannister men were the ones who were fighting them right now, because as they advanced further and further, more men broke and fled rather than fight the twin Lords of Darkness.

It took only a few hours, but soon the army of darkness had pushed it's way up to the top of the Rock, and surrounded the main keep.

It must have been early afternoon at the least, as Aegon and Lilith approached the keep. Two trolls stood on either side of the main entrance which was sealed shut. Both wielded heavy stone warhammers and took turns beating against the gate, slowly breaking through it.

Perched atop the keep, the Witch King sat upon Skausan-Eaavas, uttering dark curses which bled into the keep, filling it's residents with terror, and ripping at their spirits. Atop the keep, were scores of goblins, many armed with axes, chopping away at doors on the roof. The keep itself had dozens of spiders crawling along the walls, and even several goblins that clung to the walls near arrow slits, waiting for an arrow to come flying out of the stone, at which point they would jam long thin blades into the narrow opening hoping to cut or slice at whomever was within, injuring them with poisoned blades.

The only two major areas of resistance left on the Rock were the main keep, and the internal networks of tunnels and mines that stretched below. Unfortunately for the defenders, orcs and goblins were very good at fighting in the dark, and even better at fighting in caves, where they often liked to nest and hide to avoid the sun.

"They've barred the gates, and sealed them, no doubt barricading them with everything that isn't nailed down." Ramsay Bolton informed the two, pushing his way up to them as they approached the entrance.

Aegon nodded to show that he understood and stared at the towering keep. Despite being one of the last major points of resistance, taking the keep would not be easy.

"Stand aside." Lilith commanded stepping past him. It seemed she had little concern for the battle ahead. A path was quickly cleared, as their forces moved back. She drew forth her wand and let loose a powerful blasting spell that shot forward and ripped the entrance-way free, sending it exploding into the interior of the castle and no doubt mortally wounding those that lay within.

A roar of triumph and rage rose up from the army and many stormed in.

"Ramsay… I have a task for you." Aegon commanded as he watched his army storm into the keep.

"Your grace." Ramsay replied.

"Find Ser Kevan Lannister. Dead or alive, I want him found. We didn't manage to locate him below but some of the orcs report having seen someone matching his description a few hours ago. I think he's still alive and inside." Aegon instructed, the young Bolton offered a nod and quickly corralled a few dozen men and orcs to carry out their king's command.

Aegon continued to stare after them as he felt a large presence stalk up next to him.

He turned his gaze to find Ghost hovering by his side. The great wolf's fur was heavily matted with blood. He sported the remnants of a handful of injuries, all of which had healed over already, save for a single barbed arrow, lodged in his side.

The dark powers that had been placed within him had greatly increased the wolf's power. He and Grey Wind were proving to be immensely useful assets. Aegon definitely intended to offer such powers to the rest of their litter, the only one of which was missing was Nymeria. Lady was in the hands of one of Aegon's servants after it was set loose to save it from King Robert's Justice, and Shaggydog and Summer were back with Rickon and Bran.

"Ghost..." Aegon began, drawing the wolf's attention to him. He met the blood red eyes of the wolf and then reached out, grabbing hold of the arrow. With a swift pull, he dislodged the arrow earning a growl and yelp from his direwolf but the beast quickly settled as the wound began to heal.

Ghost offered a few licks to Aegon's helmet, earning a snort of amusement from the King whom rubbed at the wolf's neck and then turned his attention back to the keep.

To his surprise, Ramsay was already on his way back, wearing a big smile and dragging a bloodied, wounded, but still very much alive, Kevan Lannister, Smalljon Umber, by his side, aiding him.

"Ser Kevan?" Aegon inquired as the man was tossed at his feet.

"Was bravely standing with his men on the other side of the entrance." Ramsay replied, earning a snort of amusement from Lilith, who was already out of her armored form, and was standing elegantly amongst the chaos.

Aegon titled his head, and let out a noise as Kevan Lannister crawled onto his knees with great difficulty.

Aegon removed his helmet and stared down at the man, both of their eyes meeting.

Kevan was bruised, battered, and shaking. Fresh blood coated his face, and blood trickled out of his mouth and pooled around his gums. He had no doubt received a few injuries during the battle and had then taken some hits when Lilith blew in the entrance to the keep.

The man looked terrible.

"Ser Kevan… I am Aegon Targaryen. I will accept your surrender now." Aegon stated, his gaze filling with a malevolent wrath that caused Kevan Lannister to let out a breath and visibly deflate.

"Finish securing the castle, cut down any man or woman that puts up resistance." Lilith ordered Smalljon as she sauntered over to Aegon's side and stared down at the enemy commander, her own hellish gaze, matching Aegon's in intensity.

The man offered a nod and quickly turned to carry out his orders.

"See Ser Kevan to Maester Aemon. Have his wounds tended to." Aegon ordered after a few moments of staring between both battle commanders.

Several orcs quickly surrounded Ser Kevan, they bound his hands and quickly dragged him off.

"Who was that?" Robb inquired as he approached them, having caught up with the two through all of the fighting.

"Ser Kevan Lannister. One of our main tasks is accomplished, now we need only flush out what remains of the enemy." Aegon answered.

Robb offered a nod at that and turned his gaze towards the keep.

Aegon began to move, Robb and Ramsay both following behind him as he made his way into the keep.

It was well into the night when the battle was officially over. In total, Aegon's army had lost nearly six thousand, while the Lannister force at both Lannisport and Casterly Rock had lost a total of nearly twenty thousand. A near unprecedented outcome for a siege, but these men were simply outmatched. The forces of darkness had broken them in nearly every engagement, and with Aegon and Lilith leading the charge, it was almost no contest.

Thousands more had been taken captive, the ferocity of the attack, Lilith's show of power, the presence of the Nazgûl and the wrath of Aegon and Lilith's servants, had completely broken more than a few enemy soldiers, who began to throw down their weapons en masse, the moment they saw their enemies taking prisoners.

When the option was either die, surrender, or be eaten alive, most chose to surrender, and hope Aegon showed them mercy.

The castle was searched top to bottom, servants, prisoners, captured solders, lords, and knights were all removed from the castle and corralled in large pens built outside of Lannisport. Aegon ordered the castle looted and it's riches plundered. The dead were fed to the servants of darkness, while the men feasted on the castle's storehouses.

Two days went by before Ser Kevan Lannister and his sister Genna Lannister otherwise known as Genna Frey, were ordered to be brought back to the castle.

The two had been kept separate and in their own pens, for the duration of their imprisonment, and were now being escorted back into their childhood home, which had been taken by an enemy force for the first time in ages.

As the two were escorted through the castle, they were treated to the ghastly sight of orcs feasting on the bodies of the dead or feeding said bodies to the beasts. Men interacted with the ghastly creatures as if they had long been friends. Fighting together, and taking the Rock had forged a bond of camaraderie between the Northmen, the Riverlords, the Wildlings, and the various servants of darkness. They had all been united against the foes of their dark masters, and treated with one another, singing songs, drinking alcohol, and engaging in merriment. King Aegon's army was in high spirits, and they reveled in their conquest, and were united in their vitriol towards their captives.

As Ser Kevan and Lady Genna were led up towards the keep, leading a troop of the most valuable prisoners, they received quite the bit of harassment as they made their way through the castle.

Spit on, jeered at, curses, and even threats to their lives, were uttered by those that caught sight of them.

As they made it higher and higher and approached the Main keep, things became more twisted, and the unnatural sights grew worse.

They had the opportunity to gaze at some of the Fellbeasts that were resting atop walls or towers, many of the higher ranked warchiefs, and generals in Aegon's army, had taken certain parts of the castle for their own, using them as makeshift camps for their various tribes, and an air of malevolence hung in the air.

The servants of darkness were hastily erecting crude statues of Aegon and Lilith, often formed of twisted metal, broken wood, and torn cloth. Still, these statues were an imposing sight, and were almost as effective as Aegon's personal banners that now hung over throughout the mighty castle.

As they closed in on the keep, they spotted warchiefs knelt before a Nazgûl, performing some kind of ritual. They also caught sight of a White orc, raising several dead Lannister men as wights.

There was a dread that gripped at the hearts of all Lannister men and servants, as they were escorted back into the keep that had once been their home. The horrible sights they had seen would haunt them for the rest of their lives.

They were led into the great hall, which was packed with men and monsters. These creatures were not celebrating, instead they stood ready, waiting for what was about to happen.

Sitting at the high table, was Aegon Targaryen. He had purposefully taken the seat of the head of house Lannister as his own, just to rub salt into the wound.

While several high ranking Lannister supporters were led forward, most of the others were dragged off to the side, where they were set in lines, and forced to their knees.

Once the Lannister party was placed before the high table, Aegon rose to his feet, his ascension silencing the whole room.

"Ser Kevan… as acting Lord of Casterly Rock, I welcome you." Aegon greeted the man as he moved down from the table and stepped down from his position, placing himself directly before Kevan and his sister.

"What is to happen to us now?" Lady Genna asked, speaking first while Kevan winced and sent a glance at his sister.

Lady Genna, despite her unkempt appearance, held herself like a lady, prim and proper. Her gaze was focused, and she blocked out the sounds of the beastly creatures that surrounded her.

She was quite bold, and hid her fear well.

"Lady Genna, correct?" Aegon inquired, turning his gaze towards her.

"Yes." Genna responded, meeting his gaze.

"Genna Frey?" Aegon emphasized."

Genna nodded at this.

"Your husband..." Aegon began, his gaze shifting from her to some of the men at her back, many of whom were captured lords, or landed knights.

A man let out a grunt as one of the Riverland men who was guarding them, shoved him forward to stand by Genna and Kevan.

"And you are?" Aegon inquired.

"...Em… Emmon Frey… Ser… Ser Emmon Frey." The man replied, his eyes were filled with fear, he had trouble standing due to a leg wound, and he was very dirty, his skin blackened with mud, and dried blood.

Aegon stared at him for a moment before a dark smile spread across his face.

"You are the second son of Lord Walder Frey, by the laws of gods and men, that makes you heir to the Twins… I'm sure you've heard by now that I've made some changes to the line of succession." Aegon said to him, causing the man to begin shaking.

"I… you… I… didn't… I wasn't…" He began to stutter.

"And those changes don't involve you." Aegon stated, as he held a hand out. One of the nearby uruks, who guarded the high table, let out a dark chuckle and passed Aegon his blade.

The moment the blade entered into Aegon's hand, Emmon started to beg. He barely got out a word, as with a single, lightning fast strike, his throat was slit.

The hall filled with cheers, as Aegon handed the blade back to the uruk who let out a chuckle and then proceeded to lick the blood off of the blade.

Emmon grasped at his throat as he went down, blood managed to spray out, some of it landing on Aegon, much more getting onto Genna who's guarded demeanor broke as her husband's blood sprayed onto her face and side.

She turned away from the gruesome sight and grabbed onto Kevan's arm, while he only closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, mustering every ounce of his courage to keep from breaking down.

"Now… for the two of you..." Aegon stated, turning his attention back to Kevan and Genna. "What do you think I'm going to do with you?"

"Ransom us… for the return of your sisters." Kevan guessed, as Aegon met his eyes.

"Yes. That sounds about right. Though… your brother is a cruel man, and Sansa and Arya are worth more in the political sense than two aging siblings. Besides… Sansa and Arya are now out of harms way. Tywin needs them as a shield to stop me from using my dragons to burn King's Landing to the ground. He wont hurt them… he needs them far more than I need either of you." Aegon responded, eyeing the two closely, a dark smirk touching at his lips as his eyes almost seemingly began to glow. A sight that caused the two siblings to slink back, as dread began to rise within them.

"What is it you want then? You've already seized our ancestral home, you have our vaults, you have everything you need to seize the Westerlands, so what more do you require?" Genna asked in response.

Aegon was silent for a moment before turning his gaze towards something that hid in the far back of the chamber, after a few quiet seconds he offered this figure a small nod before turning his gaze back to the Lannister siblings.

"Lady Genna, you will be bathed, dressed, and sent to King's Landing to deliver a message to your brother. If he wishes for Ser Kevan to live, he will return Sansa Stark to me at once." Aegon commanded.

"You only ask for Sansa Stark, not both sisters?" Genna asked with confusion, neither sibling was aware of the fact that Sansa was all they had.

"Arya is just a child. She wont bloom into womanhood for several more years, any attempts to use her by securing a marriage will not be viable until then. Sansa is my first concern, as she is right around that age, and I would not put it past Lannister filth to try and saddle her with a husband and child. You will carry this message to your brother, I will offer you one of your servants to travel with you along with my guards. I would choose wisely though..." Aegon explained, as out of the crowd, the Witch King emerged. Unlike Aegon and Lilith, both of whom suppressed their dreadful nature, the Ruler of the Nine, offered no such reprieve, his mere approach sent most prisoners cowering away, many unable to even look at the dreaded wraith.

"Choose your one servant wisely, lady Genna, they will have to take care of both you and your brother." Aegon explained, causing both to share a glance.

"You will be taken to King's Landing by my men. Once there, you and your servant will be released into the care of Joffrey and Lord Tywin. You will deliver my demands to him, in exchange for his brother's life, he will hand Sansa over to my men, and Ser Kevan's life will be spared. If he refuses, then Ser Kevan will be killed. Are my demands understood?" Aegon said to them.

Slowly, Genna nodded, her eyes briefly flickering to the Witch King as the dreaded wraith passed a short straight blade to an Uruk who took it and offered a bow in response.

"See her properly tended to, and then see them on their way." Aegon instructed. Immediately his servants seized the siblings and dragged them away, leaving Aegon to stand before the remaining high-value prisoners.

"Now the rest of us, get to play a game. This game is called, 'who has something to give me, that's worth their life?' You'll all get to be our first players." Aegon stated, earning a dark chuckle from his servants, as the lords and knights were organized into a line, and commanded to swear fealty to the King, and prove their loyalty by paying ransom.

Aegon returned to his seat as this was happening, placing himself back in the lord's chair, between Lilith and Robb.

"Do you think lord Tywin will hand over Sansa?" Robb inquired.

"No. He'll let his brother die. He'll doubt my abilities, test my skills. I'm sending another transport of prisoners to go with them in secret. When they arrive at King's Landing, the second batch of prisoners will be commanded to guard Ser Kevan. That way when Tywin refuses and sends his own men to kill ours and free his brother, he'll only end up killing his own men. And also… that blade passed to the uruk captain… it's a Morgul Blade. Cursed. Any wound inflicted by it, will fester, and poison the victim. Very special medicines and magic are needed to heal such injuries, and Tywin Lannister does not have access to them. He'll be forced to watch his brother rot, and slip into the Wraith-world, becoming a wraith. Once that happens, Ser Kevan will be little more than a thrall to my will. He will attack his family, and during the chaos, our agents within the city will free Sansa from it. She will be safe very soon." Aegon explained his plan to Robb, who offered a nod and sat back in his chair, reflecting on what he'd learned.

If Aegon was wrong and Tywin did agree to the trade, than they got Sansa back, if he refused, than they still had agents on the inside and had Ser Kevan as a hostage, and if Aegon was right and Tywin did exactly as he said he would, than they still had a plan to rescue Sansa.

So long as it worked, he didn't much care at this point.

The longer he spent by Aegon's side, the more Robb Stark was realizing that honor and rules meant nothing in war. You treated your allies with justice, nobility, chivalry, and valor, and to your enemies, you offered them no quarter. War required ruthlessness, and that had been where Robb had failed during his campaign. He had tried to be a good man, in all things, and that had led him on a path to ultimately losing the war, had he continued to walk it.

Aegon was showing him a better way. It was harsher, darker, and filled with death and carnage, but they were winning. They were winning and that was all that mattered as far as history was concerned.

-**Meereen, Essos. That same day-**

Rómestámo stared out into the west, a terrible dread settling in his heart. It hadn't been long since he'd felt a menacing and twisted evil, echo across the world. Something had happened, something very far away, and whatever it was, it did not bode well for the forces of the Light.

At around the same time as this dark echo was radiating throughout the world, the Balrog in Valyria unleashed it's own dark powers. The blue wizard didn't know what to think of this, was the Balrog organizing some sort of dark ritual, or was it trying to cover the source of the original evil with it's own?

While he wasn't aware of it's intentions, Rómestámo knew that it had succeeded in the latter. The Istari had no idea what had caused the original darkness, but it was eerily familiar to him, and he couldn't help but imagine it was the act of Sauron.

And yet it had felt so far away. Further than Valyria, much further. The only possibility that made sense was that this was Sauron's doing. So either Sauron was not with the Balrog in Valyria or he had left it to travel somewhere further into the west, which was where he was currently.

Again, he didn't know anything for certain. And not knowing disheartened and worried him greatly.

His worry did not go unnoticed.

"Rómestámo? Are you alright?" Came the question from Queen Daenerys' handmaiden and translator.

"Yes, Missandei." He responded, turning his gaze away from the west, and to the young woman.

"You seem bothered by something?" Missandei noted, worry dancing in her gaze.

"I feel as if something terrible has happened. I cannot explain what it is, I only know that it unnerves me deeply." The wizard explained, his gaze heavy and his uncertainty visible.

She stared at him for a moment, knowing that when he said 'feel' he was referring to something far more magical than just the odd inkling. The powerful wizard had shown them many minor acts of magic since his arrival, making things move, shaping smoke, creating light when it was dark. None of them had any doubts about his abilities, so when he made a claim about feeling something terrible, such a claim was to be taken seriously.

"What do you believe it was?" Missandei inquired after a few moments.

"A darkness has echoed across the world. Something incredible has happened. An act of power far greater than any this world has seen in centuries. Most likely, not since the Doom of Valyria. I am deeply concerned by this, yet I know not it's source." Rómestámo explained to her, earning a slow deliberate nod from the woman as she took in his words, but was left just as uncertain as he was.

"Has something happened?" Came the question from Daenerys Targaryen as she entered into the room alongside her loyal defender Ser Barristan Selmy. She noted the unease that the wizard carried about him, and deduced that something was wrong.

"No your grace. I was simply reflecting on that strange and unnatural occurrence from a few days ago. It troubles me, and I don't like not knowing what the enemy is after. To many uncertainties." The wizard answered.

"No greater insight?" Daenerys inquired as she took a seat and gave the old man a questioning look.

"I know now that the event occurred far to the West. Most likely in Westoros, and I felt the power of the Balrog in Valyria at the same time as the event. This leads me to believe that this could only be the doing of the Dark Lord Sauron." Rómestámo responded as he took a seat across from the Dragon Queen.

"The Dark Lord? You believe he has come to these lands as well?" Daenerys asked, having learned a bit about Sauron during the Wizard's stay in Meereen. An evil entity of pure malice, one that claimed dominion over all free peoples. A vicious tyrant, and a bloodthirsty warlord. Of what little she knew about the Dark Lord, one point had been emphasized beyond all others, and that was that the Dark Lord was a master manipulator. He never did anything without greater cause. He was a genius tactician and a master strategist. He was not to be underestimated, even if he was supposedly only a shell of his former self.

"What would he be doing here. Your homeland of Middle-Earth, you claim that it is far from here. So far that it cannot be reached by ship even. Why would he come all this way to Westoros?" Ser Barristan asked.

"I have two ideas, both with some merit. There are ancient magics in these lands. Magics that are reawakening for the first time in a long time. Perhaps he is here to search for a way to restores his powers? He was greatly weakened after his defeat during the War of the Last Alliance. He may be searching for a way to once more assume physical form in this world." Rómestámo offered his first speculation, earning unease from Daenerys and a hard look from Ser Barristan.

Supposedly this Sauron was more than just a man. He was a being far beyond the realm of understanding. According to Rómestámo, Sauron had once walked out of the void, to join with Rómestámo's people, long ago. He befriended them, and they treated him like kin. One day he turned on his friends, siding with a great evil and becoming it's chief servant. That original evil was gone now, and Sauron was left to inherit it's legacy. According to Rómestámo, Sauron was thousands of years old, possibly tens of thousands of years old. A force so dark and terrible, that even the might of the demonic Balrog would hesitate to face him.

Daenerys and her party were uncertain as to whether they believed these things, but Rómestámo's magic was proof enough that such powers existed. Perhaps it was more accurate to say that they hoped that it wasn't true, though that meant that they did believe it, on more than one level.

"What is your other idea?" Missandei asked.

"That he has come here to build an army. To raise a force of darkness and conquer these lands." Rómestámo responded.

"What use would an army be here? If he cannot ferry them back to his lands, than even as a staging ground, it would not benefit him in his ultimate conquest of your homeland." Ser Barristan noted.

"Yes that is one of the problems with that idea. Even if he were to conquer these lands, travel back to Middle-Earth is extremely difficult, he could not send forth armies from these lands to those with any manner of ease. There are only two possibilities that coincide with this second idea, and neither bode well for you or your people. The first is that he has turned his attention away from Middle-Earth, and seeks to strike at a weaker foe. In that case, he has no intention of returning this army to his lands. The second possibility is that he is searching for a way, or has found a way, to make travel easier. No ship may cross that distance, no horse may traverse it, but there are powers in this world far greater than any of us can fathom. I know not what one could do if such powers were seized. If the latter is true and he finds a way to form a bridge between these lands and his own, he will unleash darkness upon all of Westoros and Essos. He will seize both continents and use them as a breeding ground to amass the greatest army to ever exist." Rómestámo speculated once more, his ideas, earning dark looks from his companions.

"Needless to say, the presence of the dark lord is not a good sign, no matter his intentions." Daenerys encapsulated his point, earning a nod from the wizard.

"Do you have a plan for how we'll deal with this threat?" Missandei inquired, eyeing the wizard with a curious look.

"One is slowly taking shape. I've been here long enough, and delved into the dredges of this city, I believe we can begin taking our first steps. Securing Meereen must be our first priority. So long as the Sons of the Harpy hold power here, the enemy will have an ally within these walls which will make any attempts to defend ourselves from them, that much harder. I aided tribes of men for years in countering Sauron, fighting the Balrog in Valyria will be a similarly difficult task. I understand these Harpies very well. I've faced their kind many times before, and I know the nature of their hearts. We must purge their foul corruption from this city, and in doing so, we will deny our enemy an easy victory. Once that is done, we can expand our gaze to the bay itself, securing it, will need to be a priority. Make no mistake, Queen Daenerys, if you wish to ever sail into the west and reclaim your homeland, the Balrog in Valyria will have to be dealt with first, otherwise it will harry you every step of the way, and may even destroy any hopes you have amassed in preparation for such a day. Allow me to share with you what I've learned of these Harpies, and I will show you how they may be beaten..." The Wizard explained to the Dragon Queen, earning a resolute look from her as she returned his gaze. If she ever wanted to claim her birthright then this evil would need to be vanquished.

Somehow, deep down, she did not believe it would be as easy as just that, but for now they needed to begin moving. Step by step. Piece by piece. No matter what it took, no matter how long it took. One day she would return home.

**-Middle Earth, Rivendell, three weeks later-**

Gandalf the Grey was led up to the meeting with the White Council, he was well aware that his colleagues that sat upon the council would be questioning him about his recent formation of a dwarven company that intended to reclaim the Lonely Mountain. He was almost certain that his old friend Saruman would be the first to voice his disapproval, but he would simply have to bare it.

Gandalf had something to share with his colleagues, a discovery that had been brought to him by Radagast the Brown.

Elrond escorted him into the meeting chamber where Círdan, Glorfindel, Galadriel, and Saruman were waiting. Gandalf had expected them, what he was not expecting was the addition of another individual. A very old friend.

"Alatar?" Gandalf inquired upon seeing the Blue wizard. This had been the first time he'd laid eyes upon either of the Blue Wizards in thousands of years. To see one of them here, was definitely unexpected.

"Hello Gandalf it has been too long." The Blue wizard responded, offering a smile.

"To what do we owe your presence? We had long since thought you lost in the east?" Gandalf inquired.

"A point we had gathered to discuss when news reached us of your plots with the dwarves. As luck would have it, we can discuss both situations." Saruman noted, gesturing for Gandalf to have a seat.

They discussed the lighter point of topic first, Gandalf's encouraging the Dwarf King-in-Exile to form a party of fourteen to reclaim the Lonely Mountain and deal with the dragon Smaug.

"Most of the part held silent, though they did offer hesitance when Gandalf voiced his concerns in regards to the growing threats, as well as the dangerous possibility of Smaug allying himself with the enemy.

Gandalf explained to them, that his company had been attacked on the road by orcs, trolls had come down from the mountains to raid villages and devour farm animals, the disappearance of the Balrog in Moria, and news of a dark figure trying to entreat with Smaug, all of it together pointed towards a great danger brewing.

His final point though was a warning, brought to him by Radagast. Something had taken up residence in Dol Guldur. An entity the locals were called 'The Necromancer'.

There was concern to be shared amongst the members of the council, though Saruman was not totally convinced that these events were all connected. His rationale was simply that the stirring of the Balrog had been what led to the strange movements of the orcs and trolls. Nothing greater than a simply cause and effect playing out. And that there was no proof that the entity in Dol Guldur was anything more than a human sorcerer.

Gandalf did have proof, provided to him by Radagast.

He set his proof on the table between the various member of the council.

A cloth bundle, which Elrond carefully unwrapped revealing a Morgul Blade.

The sight of it, earned unease from the council. Elrond's gaze filled worry, as did Galadriel's. Saruman stared intently at the short sword, as did Alatar. Glorfindel let out a quiet sigh and leaned forward in his seat, while Cirdan brought his hands together and set them on the table, his gaze dropping from the blade and his thoughts turning inward.

"Radagast claims to have encountered four wraiths within Dol Guldur. One of them attacked him with that very blade. And he claims to have seen a shadow, a living shadow, dark as night and filled with a vile malevolence. I know he's a bit odd, but I believe him. I believe he saw the things he claims to have seen." Gandalf offered to them.

"These wraiths… did he get a measure of them?" Alatar inquired as he rose from his seat and circled the table, standing beside Gandalf now and staring intently down at the blade.

"Powerful. Vicious. They stalked him upon entering the ruined fortress. One attacked him armed with that blade. It was little more than a spirit, weak, yet there was a potency to it. A threat of greater proportions." Gandalf responded.

"Only the servants of the Witch King carry such weapons. The Nazgûl and Cargûl, chief amongst them." Glorfindel noted.

"What is Radagast's suspicion? That he encountered servants of the Witch King within Dol Guldur?" Saruman inquired.

"Perhaps it was the Witch King, acting as this 'Necromancer'. We have received troubling news that shadows are gathering in the north, whispers that the Dúnedain have had skirmishes with men and orcs coming from the North. There are even whispers that something stirs within the desolate lands of Angmar." Elrond offered to them as well.

"What we have now is nothing more than whispers, and speculations. Uncertainty will not aid us. Alatar, what news do you bring? What has driven you so far from the lands you have called home for millennia?" Saruman directed the conversation towards the Blue wizard.

Alatar lifted his gaze from the Morgul Blade and glanced around the room. After a few moments he finally spoke.

"I have received word from the West." He began, his words earning surprise from Gandalf and Saruman, and causing all of the elves to focus on him, eager to hear what he had to say.

"The Lord of the eagles, risked life and limb to deliver a message to Pallando and I. This message came on the heels of a troubling occurrence. We sensed the departure of the Balrog in Moria. We felt it vanish from those depths. The message we received indicated that the Balrog has left Arda entirely, and has ventured to another world." Alatar expressed to them.

"Another world? Such a thing is unheard of. To travel away from existence and brave the great emptiness. Why would one of the Balrog take such a risk?" Saruman asked.

"The message did not say. It only delivered word that our mandate has changed. If this Balrog raised it's own kingdom and manages to form a pathway between our two worlds, then we could face an attack of a magnitude not seen since the First Age of this world." Alatar explained, leaning on the table as he did, imploring for them all to understand the magnitude of the situation.

"Was there any news on Sauron? Any hint that he's returned?" Gandalf inquired.

"None. As I said, the message implored that we investigate, and prepare. There are stirrings in the West, whispers of something terrible about to happen. A shadow has fallen over Mordor. A terrifying evil pours out of that place, something so dark, not even the sight of the Valar can pierce it. I worry that their fears are well founded. I suspect that the servants of darkness are busy trying to make contact with this other world, if they haven't already." Alatar responded.

"We are offered no choice then. Such a threat must be investigated at the nearest opportunity. I will go to Mordor and burn a light into this shadow myself. Sauron may be diminished, but an alliance with a Balrog, could give him the strength he needs to once more pose a threat to this world. There is also the possibility of an alliance with the dragon Smaug." Saruman began, turning his gaze to Gandalf who nodded in agreement.

"What of the Dwarven company? And the dragon?" Elrond inquired.

"Gandalf will oversee it. He helped to set this in motion, so it falls on him to see it carried out. I would recommend that you take some time to investigate Dol Guldur. I believe Lord Elrond may be right. This 'Necromancer' could very well be the Witch King. I am still not convinced that Radagast's warning is completely accurate, but I will concede the need to investigate before taking further action. If the Lord of the Nine has taken up residence in the fortress, he will need to be expunged. Investigate, and report back on your findings. What will you do Alatar?" Saruman responded, earning a nod from Gandalf as he rose to his feet.

"I will journey into the North. Lord Elrond's warning about Angmar concerns me. Those lands should be desolate and barren. If danger rises in those lands, I worry what it could lead too. There is evil that dwells there, and something far worse, that lies beneath that accursed realm." Alatar replied, his words earning a solemn look from Gandalf and Saruman.

"Of what evil do you speak?" Glorfindel asked.

"The one and only threat the Istari ever faced together. A threat encountered not long after we arrived in these lands, before we separated. Something we encountered in those lands before Angmar was founded. Deep beneath those accursed lands, lies the only other known Balrog." Gandalf explained, earning surprise from the elves.

"A elf had long stood guard over where it slumbered after the fall of Angband. It began to stir in the darkness, perhaps sensing our arrival. We felt it too, and traversed there, the five of us. Together we forced it to submit, and we imprisoned it deep beneath the earth. That same elf-maiden has stood guard over it's prison since that day. It was never uncovered, even when Angmar rose to power. Not even the Witch King would dare trifle with a Balrog. Though I am concerned. Deeply concerned. With dark powers rising again, the Balrog beneath Angmar may begin to stir once more. If it does, I fear what may happen if it attempts to join it's kin. The five are now three, if what you've said about Radagast is true. Having both Balrog unite would be a terrible cataclysm. I will go to Angmar and investigate these stirrings for myself, and I will report back what I find." Alatar finished Gandalf's explanation.

"You must all tread with great care. I sense danger in all of your endeavors." Círdan warned.

"Yes… I feel it too. We must act accordingly, and investigate these occurrences. We will reconvene once all of our tasks are accomplished. I must go now, and see to a few things before my journey. I would advise you all to begin your own investigations. If the West is stirring, than things are far more dire than they appear." Saruman commanded the White Council, earning agreement from the elves.

Right then a messenger stepped in.

"Apologies. Lord Elrond, the dwarves… their gone." The messenger informed them.

Elrond stared back at the messenger with a curious gaze before glancing at Gandalf.

Galadriel raised an eyebrow at the Grey wizard who shrugged sheepishly, earning a smirk from her in response.

Saruman narrowed his eyes and shook his head, but decided to ignore it. He had his reservations, but he would not sit idly by if word was coming from the West to investigate.

The members of the White Council quickly departed, setting about their tasks.

Gandalf moved quickly to rejoin with the dwarven company. With the Balrog now absent, they could sneak through the Mines of Moria and make quick timing across the Misty Mountains. Once across, Gandalf could venture off to Mirkwood to carry out his investigation into Dol Guldur while the dwarves continued on to Erebor. With any luck he would have his confirmation and rejoin them quickly.

Things were starting to become quite troubling, it definitely did not sit right with any member of the White Council. They needed answers, and now, otherwise this avalanche of uncertainties would bury them.

**-To Be Continued-**

_**Alright here's the next chapter, just as another side note, as I said I will be using parts taken from lotro so that includes Thaurlach. I hope you liked it, let me know what you think.**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Alright here's the next chapter hope everyone is having a good time. I'm going to take a moment to answer a few questions.**_

_**Keep in mind that I'll be taking things from different lord of the rings sources so it's not all canon material. It comes from the games, the movies, and the books.**_

_**With that being said.**_

_**Abrams 1559:**** You aren't wrong there are seven balrog. Three are sided with Aegon and Lilith. (One being the revived Gothmog) One is sealed away under Angmar, one is sealed away under mordor, one is dead, and one is unaccounted for. There's your seven my friend.**_

_**Dscot: ****No one is getting out of this unscathed, enemies will suffer, and be dominated or killed, neither Aegon nor Lilith tolerate dissidence within their ranks.**_

_**Dominus1389:**** That's an excellent idea. I'll have to keep that in mind.**_

_**38Solaire38:**** I'm sure the White Council will be terrified out of their minds when they hear that she's back. Saruman has always had a darker streak to him, he's always been prideful and selfish, I don't see that changing.**_

_**K if you guys have any questions let me know I try to answer in pm, but I'll also start answering at the start of chapters if you'd like me to, so let me know if you have any questions or suggestions. Otherwise let's get this show on the road.**_

**Darkness Reborn**

**Chapter 15:** **The Advance of Shadows.**

-**King's Landing-**

Troubling news had rattled the city. Word had reached them that an army was burning it's way across the Reach. Thousands were fleeing into King's Landing, the city had swelled to it's absolute limit now to the point where the streets were becoming a labyrinth of tents as people just chose to camp outside, since there was no room anywhere.

Word had reached the king's ear that a giant led an army of nearly ten thousand south across the Reach, setting fire to every village that they encountered. The speed of this army was incredible, they wasted no time in storming across the open plains of the Reach, their goal wasn't difficult to surmise. They were headed for Bitterbridge. The bridge sat on the Roseroad, and had been used to ferry food to King's Landing. If the road fell, the Crownlands would starve.

News of this invasion left the lords and ladies reeling, every day of court was a cavalcade of questions, demanding answers about what was going to be done.

The Tyrell and Lannister armies were both stationed in the Crownlands, and Willas Tyrell had been commanded to raise another army in the Reach. The choice was obvious that one of these three forces would have to defend the Roseroad. The issue in that, was the attack from the northwest. Raiding forces had been striking out from Harrenhal. If the armies moved south to secure their supply lines, than the raiders would push deep into the Crownlands.

Compounding the issue was that the Westerlands were being invaded. The same army that was pushing south across the Reach had seized the Gold Road, severing the Westerlands from the Crownlands.

With access to the Westerlands cut off, no reinforcements were coming from there, so the Lannisters had no way to reinforce. News was also becoming scarce from the Westerlands, they hadn't received a raven from Casterly Rock in weeks, not since the final raven reported that Aegon Targaryen's army was preparing an attack on Lannisport.

So now the Lannister-Tyrell alliance did not know what to do. Mace Tyrell seemed adamant about moving to secure Bitterbridge, but Tywin cautioned patience, as he feared acting without knowing exactly what they were dealing with.

All of the information they had received had been from fleeing farmers, and peasants, or from Varys' little birds. Those reports claimed that a giant was leading this second army, and this army was nearly ten thousands strong and filled with man-eating monsters.

Right now, Tywin intended to send scouts to Bitterbridge to see if they even still held it anymore. Ravens that were sent there, weren't returning, and he feared that the enemy may have already taken the crossing.

A very nasty day at court had managed to draw people's minds away from the coming disaster. Joffrey had thrown another tantrum when pressed for assurances that the city would not starve again.

Now the court sat anxiously quiet while the king brooded. This quiet brooding was interrupted when a guard came rushing in.

"Your grace!" The guard raced forward, stopping several yards before the line of Lannister men, and Kingsguard.

Joffrey stared down at the man, his eyebrows lifting curiously.

"Speak." Joffrey said in a huff.

"An envoy has arrived with Genna Lannister. They've come to turn her over to your custody." The guard informed him.

Joffrey looked confused and glanced over at his mother, who's eyes widened in surprise and she sat forward in her chair. She sent a glance towards one of the nearby Lannister men and mouthed for him to fetch Tywin.

"See them in." Joffrey commanded as he straightened up in his throne.

A few seconds later, a godawful sight was guided into the room.

Gasps rang out as a bound, and gagged, Genna Lannister was dragged into the room. She was accompanied by a Lannister servant, whom was also bound and gagged. Neither looked to have been harmed, and seemed to be in good condition, despite their long days of traveling.

The sight of the sister of Tywin Lannister bound and gagged, was not the only thing that shocked the crowd. Leading her along was a troop of monstrous creatures. A dozen vile and twisted orcs, lead by a lumbering and fat orc. The creature had a distinct under-bite that revealed a mouth of razor sharp teeth. His skin was a blotchy dark purple, and his eyes were puke green. The creatures all carried a scent of death about them, a smell that immediately assaulted the noses of those within the court. They marched through the crowd as all of the Kingsguard drew their swords, as well as every Lannister soldier in the room. Jaime Lannister who had now returned to the capital and his position as a Kingsguard, stood at base of the Iron Throne, staring down at the beasts with concern.

"What is the meaning of this?" Tyrion muttered, his eyes locked on the fearful look of his aunt. A woman who was often so composed and dignified, she looked terrified, and exhausted. Tyrion had never seen his aunt like that before, and it was a sight that would haunt him for weeks.

Cercei overheard his words and shook her head slowly, her eyes fearfully locked onto the monsters that guided her aunt forward. Cercei couldn't help but recall everything she'd heard about the monsters burning their way across the reach. Man-eaters, people had said. She had no doubt in her mind that these monsters were very much capable of such an atrocity.

"Joffrey Pinkskin. I come by the bidding of the great King of men and orc, Aegon Targaryen. My lord offers you these women, as a sign of good faith." The lead orc stated, as the troop came to a halt a few yards before the line of soldiers guarding Joffrey.

Joffrey stared down at the creature with fear in his eyes. This thing was monstrous, and inhuman. It was like something out of a nightmare. The other orcs around it looked no better. All of them sickly and vile. Devilish creatures, that openly growled, and sneered at the surrounding lords and ladies.

"What is the meaning of this?" Came the strong tone of Tywin Lannister. He marched into the chamber alongside two of his personal Kingsguard, passing by the troop.

For a moment he paused to glance at Genna who met his gaze with fear in her eyes.

After a moment, Tywin proceeded onward. His two guards joining the others, while he stepped up next to the throne and stared down at the orc troop, his gaze hard and piercing.

"Ah, the true power in King's Landing. As I said, I am here at my lord's bidding to offer these two as proof of my King's generosity and good faith." The orc captain began, tugging forward Genna and her servant. Both women had their hands unbound by the orcs and they were shoved forward, into the Kingsguard.

The guards grabbed them and shuffled them behind them. Genna quickly ripped the gag out of her mouth and stumbled up the steps, making her way over to Tyrion and Cercei, all the while glancing at her brother.

Tyrion met his aunt halfway, taking her hand and motioning for a guard to help her. It was obvious that she had been on her feet for a while, and could barely stand let alone walk. Despite how tired she way, she wanted nothing more than to get away from the monstrous creatures. Her servant simply laid on the steps, too tired to move.

"Is this all you've come for?" Tywin asked after a moment of silence.

"Ah… not all." The orc replied, and pulled free a tattered, muddy, Lannister banner that had been stuffed into a sack. He held it up for all to see before casting it to the ground. "Your castle has fallen. Your men are dead. Your lands belong to us now. My king extends to you an offer. A trade. The life of Kevan Lannister, for Sansa Stark. You are to deliver her to the meeting place outside of the city, there Kevan Lannister will be waiting. The two will be traded, a life for a life. My king says that so long as Robb Stark lives, Sansa Stark is useless to you. She has no worth, so accept the trade, a little girl, for a seasoned knight, with valuable information on your enemies."

Silence filled the court as many shared glances with one another, or let out gasps.

Among those in the crowd, Sansa Stark stood, her eyes widening in surprise as she heard the creature's demand.

Tywin sent a small glance towards Genna. His sister offered him a nod, to show that the orc was telling the truth. They had Kevan, and Casterly Rock had fallen.

Tyrion shook his head at that, and shared a glance with Cercei. Her eyes were wide in disbelief. She couldn't fathom what could have possibly brought down the mighty castle that she had once called home.

"Where would this meeting take place?" Tywin asked after a few moments.

"To the west of the city, ten miles. There's a small clearing off the side of the Gold Road. Thirty of your men to be met by thirty of ours. The girl, for the knight. You have three days." The orc replied.

"What happens in three days?" Joffrey asked.

"We stopped giving him water this morning, pinkskin. You figure it out." The orc replied, earning dark chuckles from his comrades.

"We will discuss this. Leave us." Tywin commanded, his voice ringing with authority.

The orcs let out hisses and sneered at him, but quickly departed. They offered the surrounding lords, some fright inducing looks, drawing out the fear in them as they moved out of the room.

Within minutes, the King's Small Council was assembled within the Small Council chamber. Genna Lannister having been brought in, with Jaime and Cercei attending as well.

"Is it true, Aunt Genna? Have they taken the Rock?" Tyrion was the first to ask.

"It was like nothing I'd ever seen. The Lion's Mouth fell into the ocean. The earth rose up to the walls and they just walked right over. Monsters and dragons, and those… things! They slaughtered thousands. Burned Lannisport first, constructed massive siege engines in hours, and brought the walls down by nightfall. The port burned, and then they came for us. Washed over the castle in hours..." Genna muttered, her voice hollow and distant.

Everyone listened in as she spoke, not knowing what to make of her words.

"She's in shock." Jaime began, knowing that it wasn't possible for the Rock to fall in only hours. Nor was it possible for the earth to lift up in such a manner.

"He killed Emmon! Called him forth after he took the castle. Cut his throat where he stood. The boy is vicious! The vile cruelty is his eyes. It was like nothing I'd ever seen. There was a monstrous trait about him. In his eyes I saw the Mountain's cruelty, your cunning, and the grace of Rhaegar Targaryen." Genna stated, turning her gaze towards Tywin.

The Hand of the King sat quietly, listening to her words. His face was stone cold, showing no emotions. Only those who had known Tywin the longest could see that internally, he was fuming.

"How could the castle have fallen so quickly? They had provisions for years, the Lion's Mouth ensures that anything other than a straight assault would fail." Jaime pressed her.

"Didn't you hear me?! The Lion's Mouth was destroyed! Like in the stories about the Children of the Forest. It collapsed in on itself, and then the ground lifted up and slid into the ravine, forming a land bridge right up to the top of the walls. The defenders on the outermost layers, were completely broken by the power on display. Aegon Targaryen led the charge into the castle. He cut down two hundred men, before the battle was over. They say a sorceress fights by his side. A being from beyond the Wall. Something monstrous and evil, that bred his army of beasts! The Young Wolf fought at his side, as well as two great wolves. Both absolutely monstrous, the size of horses they were. And dragons. A number of them. He had dragon riders too. Figures in black cloaks, they sat upon these vicious creatures, scored the walls with their talons, took our men into the sky only to rain their bodies down onto those left behind. They had giants fighting with them, massive creatures that took hails of arrows and just kept coming. The skies darkened as the army marched on us, and the sun didn't rise until after the castle fell..." Genna explained, her voice trembling with fear and terror. They could all see it in her eyes, she was absolutely mortified.

"That isn't possible." Maester Pycelle stated.

"Not possible? I saw it with my own two eyes! I saw the earth bend and twist to the whim of that sorceress. I saw her. Saw her sat at the table of our family. Skin as pale as freshly fallen snow, hair as black as night, and her eyes… like fire, burning within them. Hellish with monstrous delight. I saw her smile as the Dragon-Wolf cut Emmon's throat. I can still feel his blood slashing across my face!" Genna snapped in response, her knuckles turning white as she glared at the Grand Maester.

"The Castle and Lannisport have fallen." Tywin surmised the absolute of the situation. Knowing that nothing less, would have shaken his sister so.

"I can't believe this." Jaime muttered to himself with a shake of his head.

"And now the Dragon-Wolf wants his cousin back." Tyrion stated, after several long moments of silence.

"Yes. We traveled here together, they have Kevan." Genna responded as she tried to regain her composure.

"Why would he give us someone with knowledge of his forces, knowledge that could aid us in fighting against him, just to get back one of his cousins?" Jaime wondered aloud.

"The Starks are a tight-nit group. Plus, he doesn't see her as his cousin they were raised as siblings. Not to mention that Robb Stark is one of his biggest supporters. Getting Sansa back will secure Northern loyalty and cement his grasp on the North and the Riverlands." Tyrion replied, Tywin nodding in agreement.

"No, we can't give her back. She's the only thing stopping him from using his dragons to burn down King's Landing. We give her back, we'll have no shield to stop him." Cercei stated, her warning also earning nods of agreement, one from Tywin, Maester Pycelle, and Mace Tyrell.

"We cannot simply hand Sansa Stark over to them, even as a trade for Kevan. She is our only means to keeping his dragons at bay, and we need all of the time that her position here, offers us." Tywin began, his words earning wounded looks from Tyrion and Genna, neither of whom liked the idea of leaving Kevan in the enemy's grasp.

"So do we simply allow the allotted time to run out? Do we leave him to die of dehydration?" Tyrion asked, allowing his offense at the notion of abandoning his uncle to show in his words.

"No. He is a Lannister. If the dragonspawn wishes to tempt us, than we will show him our resolve." Tywin responded, his gaze hard and calculating. The loss of Westerlands and Casterly Rock was a severe blow to the Lannister name. Something had to be done to save face, or else the dragonspawn would have the support of all those who hated the Lannisters, long before he ever marched on the Capital.

**-Later-**

Ser Kevan sat tied to a post within a tent. His body ached, and he had trouble keeping awake.

He was left mostly alone within the tent, though occasionally a large ugly Uruk would enter and torment him for a short while. Yelling at him, berating him, occasionally beating him. Kevan hadn't seen a friendly face in days, it felt like.

They hadn't given him any water in over a day, and he was starting to feel delirious from the heat.

He was starting to hear his father's voice, it was almost like he was whispering something to him, but Kevan couldn't make out what it was he was saying.

He heard the tent flaps open and a heavy breathing filled his ears. He lifted his gaze to the towering form of the Uruk that had been his personal tormentor for the majority of this trip.

"Seems your brother has sent his reply. My scouts spotted several armored knights slipping out of city under cover of darkness. They're on their way here. My guess is that they'll attack us just before dawn. I would if I were them." The Uruk said to him. Kevan let out a tired chuckle at that. He knew his brother was ruthless and the chances that he would make such a trade were slim to none. Despite the benefits, dealing with the dragonspawn would legitimize his position as a rival, and weaken the Lannister name further. Tywin wasn't about to let that happen.

"So what now? Do you intend to slit my throat and leave me for them to find?" Kevan inquired, finding the idea almost comforting.

"No, pinkskin. The Dark Lord has plans for you. Death would be too quick." The Uruk replied with a vicious smirk as it untied his hands and hauled him to his feet.

The Uruk then proceeded to drag the tired knight out of the tent. Kevan quickly took note of his surroundings. He was in the midst of a dimly lit camp. Several tents filled his surroundings. A pack of orcs was hastily gathering a group of prisoners and forcing them into rough armor, matching that which the orcs wore.

Screams erupted from the troop of men as wooden weapons were nailed into their hands, and then the nails were bent, making it near impossible for the man to let go of the weapon.

Kevan saw this and a dread built within his gut. They were dressing up Lannister men as their own, forcing them to carry weapons, and then cutting out their tongues. Screams were soon replaced by mad gargles of terrors and pain.

"Your brother is coming to get you, I wonder how many he'll kill before he realizes our little switch." The Uruk tutted, letting out a maddening chuckle.

"You are a foul monster!" Kevan spat, before being tossed to the ground.

"Good to hear. I like having that effect on people." The Uruk responded as it drew a long straight dagger. The same dagger than had been given to him by the Witch King.

"Welcome to the winning side, Ser Knight!" The Uruk offered in cheer before stabbing Ser Kevan in the gut with the blade.

Kevan let out a gasp as a burning pain shot through him. He felt the tip of the blade snap off in his gut as the Uruk pulled the blade free and tossed it into the mud.

After a few seconds, the blade itself turned to dust, a sight that caused Kevan's blood to run cold as the pain in his gut grew worse.

"Let's get going boys. Time to head back!" The Uruk commanded, urging the rest of his troop to finish with their work and depart the camp.

As they vanished into the surrounding forest, Kevan Lannister was left to bleed in the mud alongside other survivors from Casterly Rock.

The pain in his gut grew worse until eventually he was unable to draw his thoughts away from it. His vision eventually began to blur as his veins began to burn and the pain of a hot knife being sliced up through his guts, filled his senses.

Soon he was gasping as the sound of hooves trampling the dirt, filled the area. Followed swiftly by arrows cutting through the air, and piercing several of the maimed Lannister men in orc disguises.

The sounds continued to grow louder and louder as the trampling of horses shook the ground around Kevan's writhing form.

He heard shouting reach his ears and hands on his body, everything was beginning to feel so cold. He could barely see anything other than vague shapes now, and the pain was getting worse.

Ser Kevan felt himself being lifted up, and that was the last thing he could recognize as the world grew dark and he lost consciousness.

**-Later-**

"Do we know what his affliction is?" Tywin inquired as he stared down at his brother's trembling form.

"I uh- I've never seen this type of poison before my Lord. I am consulting with some of my notes, to see if there's anything that may give me some clue as to what's afflicting him. His wound is festering in a most unnatural way." Maester Pycelle noted as he examined Ser Kevan's body.

"He knew we were going to refuse." Jaime noted as he stood beside his father.

"And he left a trap to embarrass us. Those were Lannister men he maimed and left as targets for our attack. The boy is far less green than we anticipated." Tywin replied, his eyes cold as he stared down at his brother.

"How is he doing?" Came the inquiry from Cersei as she entered into the maester's laboratory.

"Not well." Jaime replied as his eyes fell onto his uncle's wound. The skin around it had turned gray, and his veins were running a dark purple. Slowly his uncle's eyes were beginning to turn white, as the color faded from them.

"Is there anything that can be done for him? Anything to ease his pain?" Cersei asked.

"None of my remedies seem to do anything to the pain. He is fading quickly and will not last for long. If I knew what poison was used on him, perhaps I could manage something, but as it stands, I do not know what is afflicting him." Maester Pycelle responded.

"Perhaps Qyburn should take a look?" Cersei suggested after a moment of silence.

Tywin was quick to offer a nod of agreement, even as Pycelle began to protest.

"He is my brother, Grand Maester. I will afford him whatever care he requires in order to survive. If you cannot treat him, I will find someone who can." Tywin replied, his voice stern as he dressed down the Maester.

"I'm hoping you have a plan, with how we're to respond to this. Whispers are already spreading that the West has fallen." Jaime said quietly to his father.

"A plan is slowly forming. For now we must ensure that our position here is secure. We now know of two things that the dragonspawn wants. The throne and his cousin. We have both, now we simply need to devise a way to use both against him." Tywin replied, as he turned and headed out of the room, leaving behind a final command for him to be informed the moment Kevan's condition changed.

**-Elsewhere-**

Sansa Stark sat quietly staring at herself in the mirror. Ever since hearing news about Jon, about him being a Targaryen, and her cousin, and the rightful king, she'd felt confused, but also elated. Her idea of a knight in shining armor had long since been shattered by King's Landing the people who lived there, but Jon was still something she believed in, someone she believed in. On top of everything, despite all that he was doing, he was still thinking about her. The fact that he'd be willing to trade a seasoned knight, someone like Ser Kevan Lannister, for her, proved that he was still thinking about her and that he still cared.

She couldn't help but smile at the thought, and the hope that he would avenge their family's suffering, and return all of her suffering onto Joffrey and his family.

At the thought of vengeance, she felt a heat pass through her veins, and her hands curled into fists unconsciously. When the time came for the Lannisters to pay, she hoped that Jon allowed their suffering to endure.

**-Two Days Later-**

Qyburn worked tirelessly over the body of Ser Kevan Lannister, studying the effects of whatever unknown poison was used on him. Nothing could be done to ease the man's pain, nor could any cure be located. Further and further, the knight seemed to fade, until his skin was as pale as the moon, and his eyes were a milky white. Despite being an old man already, Ser Kevan had seemingly aged thirty years or so over the course of a few days. He was thin, and frail, with the only coloring he possessed, being that of his veins, which bulged and held a deep purple coloring. Any attempts to extract blood revealed a black, oily substance, that reeked of rotten meat.

Qyburn had effectively taken over Maester Pycelle's laboratory as he labored over Ser Kevan, studying his affliction and what was happening to him. Here today, he could finally say for certain that this was no mere poison. The studious former maester knew this could only be some sort of vile sorcery.

He had told as much to Cersei and her father, warning them that whatever was used on Ser Kevan, had no ordinary cure.

Other than the occasional gasp for air, Ser Kevan made no other noise. His family came to visit him, but none could stand to look at him for long. Maester Pycelle had already offered his suggestion that Ser Kevan be put out of his misery. A diagnosis that Qyburn agreed with, now that he'd conducted his own studies. Countering sorcery wasn't possible, without some sort of sorcery of your own, and despite his curiosity to see what would happen if such methods were employed, Qyburn was far more curious to see what would become of Kevan Lannister, when this darkness was finished running it's course.

Would he simply continue to wither until he was naught but bones and flesh? The man was already close to such a state. Qyburn was eager to see what the end of this vile sorcery would be.

Qyburn stared down at a small patch of flesh that had been removed from Ser Kevan's body for examination. He was studying it, when he felt an unease enter into his heart. The feeling of dread that suddenly gripped him was enough to shock him out of his observations and caused him to tremble.

It was late into the night, and the laboratory was dimly lit by candlelight. The fluttering of cloth, touched at the man's ears, and he suddenly felt a presence within the room with him. It felt as though something was standing right behind him.

Slowly Qyburn reached for a nearby candlestick. He held it close as he slowly rose to his feet. The feeling of dread that tug as his senses, grew. He felt a chill pass through his body, and all parts of him seemed to run cold as he slowly turned around to gaze out across the supposedly empty laboratory.

Qyburn expected to find someone waiting there, but his eyes beheld nothing. No person stood in the room, no one else was there except for him. He stared out across the room, uncertain and unnerved, when his eyes suddenly fell onto a curious sight.

Slowly, Qyburn made his way across the room. Each step seemed to magnify the feeling of terror, as he approached the resting place of Kevan Lannister. The man had been laid out on a padded bed, that had been brought into the room. He hadn't moved from that spot since arriving, and yet, to Qyburn's uncertainty and dread, the bed was now empty, the blankets pushed aside.

Qyburn stared down at the empty bed for several long moments before turning his gaze out to the rest of the room.

Using the candle as a means to illuminate the darkness his eyes were quickly drawn to something that caused him to freeze.

There, standing in the center of the room was a shadow. Invisible to the eye, though Qyburn could see the shadow of a man spread out across the floor, from his own candlelight.

To his surprise and terror, the shadow moved, shifting as if to look at him.

Nothing was there, and yet he could clearly see the shadow upon the ground.

Qyburn didn't know what to make of it, that shadow just seemed to hover there before suddenly it moved. Qyburn watched as the shadow strode away, marching up the steps that led to the exit.

To the amazement of the former maester, the door to the laboratory opened, signifying that the shadow could interact with the physical world, and it quickly departed.

With it's departure, the overwhelming feeling of dread, seemingly left with it, though an aura of cold fear remained hanging in the air, almost like an after-effect.

"Amazing." Qyburn muttered as he slowly began to follow after the shadow.

The castle slumbered as the shadow made it's way through it. It moved unseen to the armory, where two guards stood, both half-asleep. Both men were roused from their boredom as a feeling of dread overtook them, and they shared a look with one another, both noticing that the other felt the same unnatural feeling.

"What the hell is that?" One asked the other.

"No clue, it feels like..." The other began only to stop as his eyes fell to his comrades sword which was rising out of it's sheath, he slowly pointed at the sword, as it drew free from the scabbard, the other guard turning his gaze to the floating sword that hung in the air before him.

"Ghost!" He began to cry out, only for the blade to lash out, slicing into his throat.

A scream of fear erupted from the other guard as he began to draw his own sword, only for the blade to strike out at him as well. The blade was driven hard into his open helm, piercing him in the eye and killing him instantly.

Blood spilled across the floor, as the key to the armory lifted free from one of the two corpses.

The armory was open, and the shadow entered in. Diligently, it began to arm itself.

The wraith of Kevan Lannister dawned a familiar armor. The armor of the Lannister soldier, something that was recognizable to him, and wouldn't immediately draw attention. The infamous armor of house Lannister. The armor itself, allowed the wraith to appear almost completely normal, especially in the dark. Only when someone got close could they see the absence of a head beneath the helmet.

Taking a fresh sword, the wraith departed the armory, heading out into the castle to fulfill it's goal.

Meanwhile, Qyburn quietly made his way through the halls, following the cold feeling of dread in the air. Any time he would pass a guard or a servant, discussing the strange chill that seemed to permeate the area he would warn them that an intruder was within the castle, and that they should inform others.

It wasn't long before a contingent of guards began to follow the former maester, many of whom didn't quite understand what he was following, but were nonetheless convinced of the validity of his claims, when his path led them to the armory, where two fresh corpses awaited them.

"Inform the king!" One guard shouted, as they quickly began to spread out, each one searching for the unknown intruder.

Over the course of the following minutes, the royal family was gathered in the throne room, the Kingsguard and a contingent of Lannister men, stood ready to defend the room from attack.

Tywin was the second to last to be escorted in, the only one remaining was Tommen. He arrived just as fresh reports arrived that more bodies had been discovered.

"What is happening!" Joffrey demanded.

"An Assassin is in the castle, your grace. Some of our men are already dead." One of the Kingsguard answered.

Joffrey went quiet at that, and slowly began to pace.

"I want this assassin found, immediately." Tywin commanded to a contingent of guards. Earning nods, they quickly headed out, intent on tracking the assassin down.

Elsewhere in the castle, the wraith of Kevan Lannister, held a guard by the throat.

"Please, don't hurt me!" The young man begged as a blade was pressed to his throat.

"**Stark! Sansa Stark!" **The wraith demanded.

"She's probably been taken to the throne room with her husband. That's where you'll find her." The man explained, trying desperately to stay alive.

The wraith stared down at him for a long moment before releasing him and marching away.

Moving through the castle were three Lannister guards who were escorting Tommen to the Throne Room. He had been up late and down in the kitchens searching for something to eat, when the castle suddenly came alive with activity.

The guards made their through a hallway, closing in on the throne room when from the shadows of a side hall, a figure wearing their armor emerged.

"Come quick! We must get the prince to the Throne Room." One of the guards demanded, sparing the figure a half glance.

A flash of steel was the last thing he saw as his head was separated from his shoulders.

The remaining two guards shoved Tommen behind them as they focused on their attacker.

A loud screech filled the air as the wraith advanced on the two, causing both to stumble back in terror, one man even dropping his sword.

The remaining armed guard let out a terrified scream, and tried to swing his sword at the entity, which they now realized did not have a face beneath it's armored helm.

His strike was blocked and a gloved hand grasped his throat. The man quickly lost consciousness as his throat was crushed by the wraith's strength.

He was dropped to the floor, as the remaining guard turned and fled, leaving Tommen behind, cowering and trying to crawl away.

The wraith stared down at the young prince for several moments before following after him.

Tommen was panicking as he heard the footsteps of the terrifying thing close in on him.

He was grabbed by the back of his neck and hauled to his feet.

"Please don't hurt me!" Tommen begged as the entity started to drag him along, placing it's sword at his throat as it did.

Inside of the Throne Room, Cercei was busy demanding to know where her youngest was. Tyrion and Sansa stood side by side watching as everything played out. The main doors into the throne room were suddenly opened as a troop of guards that had been stationed outside, backed into the room, weapons drawn and facing something outside.

This drew all attention in the room, as the guards continue to back up into the room.

Tywin was the first to spot the figure in Lannister armor, holding the prince at sword point.

Cersei soon spotted this as well and started to advance only for Jaime to grab her arm and pull her behind him. He was quick to draw his sword, as were the other Kingsguard.

"Seven hells..." Tyrion muttered as he noticed the absence of a face beneath the helmet of this invader.

"What are you?" Tywin demanded as he too noticed the absence of a body beneath the armor.

"**Give me the girl!" **The wraith demanded as it pulled Tommen up and held him in front of it like a human shield. It's voice sounded monstrous, a violent hissing from the back of the throat. It sounded like it hurt to speak. The feeling of dread the entity gave off, unnerved almost everyone in the room. Only the stoutest of heart were unaffected by it, such as Tywin Lannister.

"What girl?" Tywin demanded as more guards rushed into the room and surrounded the entity.

"**Stark..."** The Wraith groaned in response as it pressed the blade harder into Tommen's throat, actually drawing a bit of blood as it did.

Silence permeated the room as Tywin glanced over at Sansa, who stared wide eyed, and in disbelief at the creature.

Tywin returned his gaze to the wraith, and then to the frightened and struggling form of Tommen, held in it's grasp. To lose Tommen would be a dreadful blow to the stability of the realm. He was the spare, after all. If Joffrey were to die, Tommen would guarantee that they still had a rightful claim to the throne. However, if they lost Sansa Stark, they would lose their shield against Aegon and his dragons. Neither prospect was good for them.

"You think we'll simply allow you to take her? You wouldn't make it a hundred yards." Tywin threatened as more guards entered.

"**Your threats are meaningless! The darkness demands her! Deliver her to me, or I will sever the boy's head from his body!"** The Wraith roared in response as it placed it's free hand on top of Tommen's head, grabbing a fistful of hair.

The young boy let out a cry of pain and fright as his eyes danced between his family members, hoping one of them could save him.

"Sansa..." Tyrion whispered quietly, drawing her attention away from the spectacle and down towards him.

Tyrion looked up at her meeting her gaze, after several long moments he took in a deep breath and offered her his hand.

Understanding dawned on her, and she received his offer. Slowly, Tyrion escorted her through the guards, and before the wraith.

"Tyrion!" Tywin began when he spotted his youngest son.

"What you doing?" Jaime hissed as Tyrion passed him.

"Saving my nephew. Sansa isn't a prisoner anymore, she is my wife. The decision to exchange her in fair trade belongs to me. Only one other man has that authority in the eyes of the gods, so unless the king wishes to see his brother beheaded, I will do what needs to be done." Tyrion responded, throwing a momentary glance at Joffrey, half expecting him to actually demand that Tyrion stop the trade and allow the creature to kill Tommen.

As Tyrion led Sansa forward, the wraith released it's grip on Tommen's hair, moving it's hand to the back of his neck, while it's sword also shifted, going from his throat, to being pointed at his back.

"You want her? Here she is. A life for a life." Tyrion said as he and Sansa paused several feet before the wraith.

"**A life for a life. Take the boy, and know that the darkness held him in it's grasp and let him live. Not all are so fortunate." **The Wraith hissed in response as it slowly pushed Tommen forward, releasing Tommen's neck and reaching out over his shoulder for Sansa's hand.

"I don't know what this creature has planned for your escape… but do please be careful." Tyrion whispered to Sansa as he released her hand and reached out for Tommen, as the boy was inched closer.

"Thank you, Lord Tyrion. For everything you've done." Sansa offered in response as she reached out and took the Wraith's gloved hand.

Tommen caught Tyrion's hand and immediately pulled away from the wraith, Tyrion backpedaling with him and ushering him towards the guards and up to his mother, who received him with a tearful hug.

The wraith held Sansa's hand for a moment, it's empty helm, staring at her for several long moments.

Sansa stared back, as she felt a darkness pass through where her hand touched it's. This darkness passed up her arm and into her chest. She felt her legs give out and she collapsed onto the ground, the wraith now standing above her, staring down at her.

"**The Dark Lord commands thee. Rise, wolf blood. Rise and hunt!"** The Wraith hissed down at her, as the darkness circled her heart, and a memory flashed through her mind. The nightmare she had once had, being bitten by Jon, the forest, and the blood. The giant wolf, the howling…

Sansa could hear her own heartbeat, drumming in her ears. Pain started to wrack her body and she let out a cry.

Her cries continued for several long moments as she began to change. Her body shifted, her limbs grew and twisted.

Cries of fear and surprise rose up from the surrounding guards as Sansa Stark transformed into a werewolf, her wolf's blood being fully activated by the power of darkness.

Within moments she tore free from her clothes and assumed her full wolfish form, one that mirrored Aegon's though a bit smaller, and with fur matching her hair color.

"Gods..." Jaime muttered in disbelief.

Many of the guards began to back away in fear as the large wolf-like creature that Sansa had become, now turned it's gaze towards Joffrey and let out a monstrous snarl.

Joffrey let out a frightened whimper as he took several steps back and his Kingsguard tightened formation around him.

Sansa began to advance, snarling louder as she did, only to suddenly stop and turn her gaze out to the west. The wolf perked it's ears, almost like it could hear someone calling out to it.

With a snarl, the wolf began to advanced towards the throne, the wraith trailing by it's side.

Many began to back away, save for Tywin Lannister.

Letting out a howl, the wolf rushed forward, leaping over Tywin and slamming into a cluster of guards, sending a half dozen men to the ground. With another leap, the wolf leaped up onto the Iron Throne, taking hold of several high swords, and using them as leverage to leap up onto the high window overlooking the throne. The wolf easily smashed through the glass the crawled out through the opening.

"**The wolves of Winter march upon the kingdoms of men. The Lion and the Stag will fall! Darkness shall reign!" **The Wraith hissed drawing the attention of all back to it.

"What are you?" Tywin demanded, asking the creature once more.

"Ser Kevan." Came an answer from the entrance-way. Qyburn stood there, examining the situation.

"Kevan?" Tywin replied, confused.

"**The brother you once knew, is dead. I have risen in service to the Witch King."** The Wraith hissed in response, his words earning dumbfoundment from all those present, and it broke Tywin out of his domineering stance, momentarily shaking him to his core.

Before any of them could recover from the shock of what they'd just heard, the wraith let out an ear piercing scream, that tore right into the very souls of all those that surrounded it.

Those of the weakest wills, clutched at their ears and fell to the ground screaming. All the rest, could only grit their teeth and try to resist the aura of dread that washed over them.

Using the moment confusion, the wraith tossed down it's sword, and than immediately removed it's helm. Within moments it had unburdened itself of the Lannister armor, the last vestige of clothing dropping to the floor, rendering the creature invisible to the naked eye.

"**Your world shall fall. The Dark Lord comes for thee. You cannot run from from it, you cannot escape it. You face death itself. The world of men, is doomed!"** The newly born Cargûl, delivered it's final words before retreating unseen from the room, passing by the guards, even shoving a few aside as it simply left, knowing none of them could halt what they could not see.

Silence filled the room as the feeling of dread departed with the wraith, leaving nothing but a haunting emptiness behind.

Tyrion was the first to speak after many long moments of silence, but when he did, his words encapsulated what everyone was thinking to some degree or another. "We're fucked."

-**Outside of the city-**

"Come on girl… the Dark Lord commands you to go to him." A servant of Aegon said, staring down the reddish werewolf, that was Sansa Stark.

Several men, all disguised as simple peasants stood in a clearing, torches in hand and held before them to ward off the vicious werewolf. The leader of the troop held alongside his torch, a burning glass candle, and from within it, an essence projected outward. Whatever was calling for Sansa, it was coming from this candle.

The wolf drew closer as a voice began to emerge from the candle, audible even to the men around.

Some unknown sorcery passed through the air, causing the werewolf to begin to teeter before falling into a dreamless sleep.

As soon as the werewolf collapsed the men quickly set to work, binding the beast in ropes, and hauling it into the back of a nearby wagon.

"Come on boys, let's deliver the Dark Lord's prize." The leader of the troop commanded as they finished placing the slumbering werewolf into the confines of the wagon and began to head off into the night. They would make their way to Harrenhal, and then Sansa would be taken into the west, where even now, castles began to fall as the army of the Dragon King, surged outward and began cutting down all who resisted the new ruler of the Westerlands.

**-Three Days Later, Casterly Rock-**

Weeks it had been since the fall of the Westerlands to Aegon and Lilith's army. Lannisport and Casterly Rock were both in the process of being rebuilt and refortified. In Lannisport, ships were beginning construction as Aegon set his new subjects to a monumental task.

As the castle was rebuilt, Aegon began to draw up schematics for a new class of ships, the likes of which had never been seen before in Westoros. These ships were of Númenórean design, with Aegon's own advancements and modifications. Ships that would be similar in nature to the those of the Great Armament, the last king of Númenor unleashed in an attempt to seize Valinor, so long ago.

Even just a handful of vessels, with such might would be enough to overwhelm the galleys and longboats of the Greyjoy fleet, and eventually, Aegon would construct more, and unleash them upon Essos.

For now, schematics of these ship designs would be copied and dispatched to all of the ports under his command, and those with the capacity for such a task, would begin construction of these mighty vessels.

Aside from that, Aegon now held court out of Casterly Rock, where the Lords and Ladies of the Westerlands were commanded to come and swear fealty to the new ruling power, those that did not, were subsequently attacked as Aegon's army dispersed across the Westerlands, crushing any holdouts, and securing the kingdom.

Not long after the attack, Lilith had commanded that Gothmog return to Tantibus Arcis, and gather another army to march south. This force would be fifty thousand strong and would reinforce them. It would take several months to gather the army and march it all the way down from beyond the Wall, but if every was timed correctly, Gothmog's army would arrive at the Riverlands, around the time that Aegon was ready to invade the Crownlands.

While Gothmog gathered this army, Aegon and Lilith would secure the Westerlands, and make war on the Reach. Barring any attempts made by Stannis Baratheon or the Stormlords, once the Reach fell, Aegon could invade the Crownlands in force and seize the throne.

He would have around sixty-five thousand for the invasion of the Reach, not counting those that would hold the Westerlands once they moved south, and Aegon intended to raise an army of men within the Westerlands and forge an alliance with Dorne. If luck held he might manage to gather a few thousand men from the Westerlands, and maybe ten thousand from Dorne. If everything went as planned and he avoided major losses, Aegon would have a force of over a hundred thousand to attack King's Landing.

Other than outnumbering them, Aegon also intended to weaken his foes with starvation. The Iron Titan and his army now held Bitterbridge and Aegon had dispatched multiple raiding parties to strike out from the Gold Road and attack the Reach, raiding farmland and harassing caravans. While he worked on conquering the Reach, he would effectively starve the capital, ensuring that when he did march on King's Landing, their numbers would be even less.

While not planning or holding court, Aegon began conducting dark rituals deep within the mines of Casterly Rock.

Using his dark magics, Aegon conducted a ritual from his past, placing the egg of a chicken, beneath a toad, Aegon set about breeding the fearsome King of Serpents back into the world.

In the quiet dark, Aegon worked his magic into the unborn creature, using dark and twisted spells to alter it as the ritual to birth the mighty Basilisk, ran it's course.

Lilith reacted with great excitement when she heard of his plans to birth a Basilisk into the world. She had spent a great deal of her youth, enthralled by serpents and the like, and it was her study of such creatures that led her to the mighty dragons where her passion truly lay, but she couldn't deny that she still adored the fearsome beasts, and was excited to see one, once more.

Using his magic, Aegon manipulated the unborn beast, enhancing the strength of it's scales, which were once as hard as the dragons of their youth, it's natural armor would now rival that of the Great Dragons, being nigh impenetrable and without weakness, save for the inside of it's mouth.

Aegon also worked his magic to alter the beast and remove it's weakness to the crowing of a rooster. A process that would have been near impossible in his youth, Aegon now understood how to manipulate living things and twist such creatures to his desires. All that mattered was time, patience, perseverance, and skill.

Power was also a deciding factor, in all honesty, and Aegon now possessed such power in spades. All he needed to do was grant the Basilisk the ability to temporarily deafen itself at the sound of a roosters crow. A normal basilisk wouldn't die immediately from the crowing of a rooster, it took several moments of the sound to fully cause the Basilisk's heart to stop, so allowing the creature to temporarily block out all sound, the moment it began to pick up that distressing noise, would allow it to survive.

With it's weakness removed, and it's natural armor enhanced, the great King of Serpents would once more be unleashed upon the world, in all of it's glorious and improved form.

Upon it's birth, Aegon brought the creature for Lilith to see. A three foot long serpent, with dark green scales, and bright yellow eyes. It was a female, lacking any feathers upon it's head, and was born with a mouthful of razor sharp teeth, dripping with poison.

Upon examination of the creature, Lilith took note of it being more than just an upgraded Basilisk. Aegon had bonded the beast to him, much like his dragon Umbra, and his Direwolf Ghost. The Basilisk now shared a tie to her master, and was thus, more powerful as a result.

Aegon took to naming her Euryale, as she was the first of her kind, a new breed of Basilisk that was greater than her ancestors. Naming her after one of the legendary gorgons, made sense to him.

Lilith swooned over the infant serpent, enjoying it's presence and often meeting it's gaze in a battle of wills. Despite being freshly born, the young serpent was already headstrong, and obstinate.

Most of the time, the newborn basilisk would travel with Aegon, draped around his neck or coiled around his upper arm within his clothes. Aegon intended to teach the little serpent the languages of this world as well as Arda though for now he spoke to her in Parseltongue. He also commanded that she utilize a set of lenses that could slide over her eyes, to stop her from killing anyone she looked at. With these lenses covering her eyes, anyone who met her gaze would seize up in fright, but they would likely survive unless they had some sort of underlying condition that could cause such a fright to harm them.

Not long after Euryale was born, Aegon took the serpent to meet with Maester Aemon. He showed the newborn creature to his granduncle, explaining what it was, and how it differed from the so-called Basilisks that he had heard of. Aemon marveled over the strange creature, admiring her traits, and her serpentine nature.

A mighty and powerful creature, that Aegon explained, could even kill a dragon with it's poisons, if it managed to get close.

Even as a newborn, Euryale was already producing venom, and Aegon extracted a small amount which he gave to Aemon so that he could study it and it's affects. Aemon was grateful for the opportunity and took some time to familiarize himself with a poison that, according to Aegon, was more deadly than almost any other in the world.

Raising his newborn familiar and securing the Westerlands filled Aegon's time, until now when a raven arrived with news that Sansa had been freed and was now being transported to Harrenhal.

Hearing that, Aegon called for Robb, Arya, and Benjen to meet with him in private.

"My agents are taking Sansa to Harrenhal." Aegon informed them.

"She managed to escape?" Robb asked in reply, his face lighting up with a smile.

"Yes. Her wolf's blood was activated, and she managed to get out of the castle. Our agents managed to find her and are taking her to safety. Uncle Benjen, I would ask that you take a hundred riders, and head to Harrenhal to retrieve her and bring her here. With her wolf's blood active, she'll require training, so that she can learn to control it. Plus we can keep and eye on her here until it's safe to send her north." Aegon commanded, earning a nod of affirmation from Benjen.

"I'll go and get her. I'll see her safely returned to you all." Benjen offered to Arya and Robb.

"Ride hard uncle, but stay safe." Robb said to him, offering Benjen a hug, which he reciprocated.

"You both stay safe as well, and keep your cousin out of trouble." Benjen replied, patting Arya on the head and offering Aegon a smirk which he returned.

"We'll see you when you return uncle. Go with haste, before the Lannisters have time to catch up." Aegon said to him, earning a nod from the man who quickly turned to depart.

"You think they'll be alright?" Arya asked as Benjen left.

"Uncle Benjen is strong, and Sansa is stubborn, just like mother. They'll be back soon." Robb offered in reply.

"That's now four of the Starks who've had their wolf's blood activate. The chances grow for you to soon join our rank, along with Bran and Rickon." Aegon stated.

"I hope I do. Being a werewolf and all. Sounds perfect for me." Arya replied with a smile, earning a snort of Robb as he shook his head.

"Be careful what you wish for, Arya. You may just get more than you bargained for." Aegon countered with a smile of his own.

Arya stared back at him for a moment, before lightly shaking her head and turning to head off.

Both Robb and Aegon watched her walk away before sharing a glance.

"So I'm guessing they refused the trade?" Robb stated after a few quiet moments.

"Yes. Just as anticipated they moved to free Ser Kevan, believing me to be unprepared. Their doubt cost them the lives of some of our prisoners, and now Ser Kevan has joined the ranks of the Cargûl." Aegon responded, earning a slow nod from Robb.

"What's our next step?" Robb asked after a moment.

"Once we finish securing the Westerlands, we march into the Reach. It's wide and open there, there's almost nowhere for an army to be pinned by terrain, meaning we can dispatch multiple raiding forces across the plains, and have them harass the enemy while we prepare a major assault aimed towards Highgarden." Aegon replied to his cousin's question.

"You have thoughts towards such an assault?" Robb questioned him.

"I have a few ideas. Come, let me share them with you, see what you make of my plans, and see if together we cannot refine out attack to a razors edge." Aegon answered placing a hand on Robb's shoulder gesturing him to follow. The two quickly made their way to where Aegon had established his council chambers within the castle, so the two could go over maps of the Westerlands and the Reach and go over what information they had on the enemy.

With Sansa now returning to the safety of her family, any hesitance towards future assaults was removed. The Lannisters had lost their last remaining piece with which to threaten them with. Now they would face total war.

**-Four days Later-**

Aegon sat in his bed, Lilith cradled in his arms, the two laying together, staring out at nothing in particular as they basked in each others presence.

Both were quietly thinking, neither had spoke in about an hour, when suddenly Aegon shifted and sat straightened up.

"What is it?" Lilith inquired, noting his sudden reaction.

"Olórin. Gandalf the Grey, one of the Istari. He has come to Dol Guldur." Aegon replied, his eyes lighting up in flame as he focused on his Avatar in Middle Earth.

"Why is he there?" Lilith asked.

"He has come at the behest of the Brown Wizard, Radagast. I knew the troublesome little wood sprite would bring me a greater prize." Aegon answered as a cruel smile spread across his face.

**-Dol Guldur, Middle Earth-**

The Dark Lord watched as Gandalf the Grey retreated through the castle alongside the former dwarven king, Thráin. Gandalf had used his magic to restore some of the dwarf's sanity and was trying to question him, but Thráin knew that Sauron was near, and knew they had to retreat.

Sauron overhead Gandalf assure the old king that a 'key' and a 'map' were both safely in the hands of Thráin's son, Thorin.

Thráin reacted with fear at that, and began warning Gandalf against any attempt to reclaim the Lonely Mountain when suddenly, Azog the Defiler emerged from the shadows and struck the Grey Wizard, sending him onto his back.

Gandalf was quick to return to his feet, and use his magic to hold Azog back as he collected Thráin and the two began to retreat.

Using a burst of white light from his staff, Gandalf was able to blind his attackers and he retreated through the castle alongside the old dwarf king.

The two were set upon by wargs, and barely managed to outrun them, only for Gandalf and Thráin to run right into the Dark Lord's Avatar.

Gandalf's eyes went wide as he beheld the living shadow that quickly swelled with power as Sauron channeled his essence through the Avatar and lashed out at the Grey Wizard.

Gandalf used a shield of light to protect himself and the old dwarf from the lashing tendrils of shadow that assaulted him.

A battle of wills began as the Avatar pounded against Gandalf's shield, while Gandalf summoned all of his strength to resist the attack.

For the first time since it's creation, the Dark Lord was now fully focused on puppeting his Avatar, channeling his dark power through it, while holding back just enough to prevent it from breaking down.

An opening occurred for just a moment in Gandalf's defenses as the old Dwarf king despaired and begged the Wizard to tell his son that he loved him.

The moment Gandalf was distracted by the dwarf's requested, the Dark Lord struck out, pulling the dwarf away from Gandalf and out of his protection. Seeing no further use for him, the old dwarf was torn apart by the tendrils of darkness before they resumed their assault on Gandalf.

Their battle of wills resumed, the fortress around them shaking and beginning to crumble as light and dark smashed against one another.

Finally, the Dark Lord had enough power gathered, and his Avatar's shadowy form, ignited into flame, so focused was Sauron's will on his Avatar that his image began to project itself as a pure black form, wreathed in hellish fire.

Sauron focused his power onto Gandalf's staff, turning it to ash in the Wizard's hands as he shattered his shield and threw him up against a stone wall.

The Grey wizard was only able to utter a single word as he realized the true nature of his foe.

"Sauron!" He hissed out, as tendrils of darkness shot forward from the flame and hammered the wizard's body, injuring him and driving him into unconsciousness.

**-Casterly Rock, Westoros-**

Aegon let out a menacing chuckle, as a cruel grin spread across his face.

"The Wizard is mine." Aegon growled out, his eyes locked with Lilith's. She smiled back at him, her smirk, equally terrifying as she saw into his mind, and bore witness to the battle that just played out.

"You truly have grown strong, baby brother. You cast down one of the mighty Istari from a world away. Truly magnificent." Lilith offered him praise, enjoying how truly incredible his strength was. Even with all that she had done to improve her own strength, even with the natural advantage she had, had over him when they were children, even after the power-up she had undergone when Eru brought her back to life, and she was freed from the confines of mortality, her little brother's power was still something that amazed her.

Rituals, dark sorcery, sacrifice, and all other manner of abhorrent act had increased Lilith's powers during her time as a human, and yet, Harry had always managed to trail her. Though never surpassing her, he had always managed to remain a threat, despite everything.

Now Lilith saw something more in him. A potential to surpass her as a threat. He wasn't blessed with great powers, he was always strong, but never a freak like she had been. She had done all manner of unspeakable thing to herself in order to enhance her powers. If those things she had done, reflected in her physical form, she would have been far more hideous than even her predecessor Voldemort had been.

Harry had never taken those shortcuts. He had never made those selfish sacrifices. He worked for all that he knew, and he fought for his power, he always had. Now, thousands of years later, he had grown into a monster, all his own, but with his growth came a cleverness, and skill that had reflected in his youth. His powers grew, but he never forgot the struggle to gain it, and that made him cautious, and clever, and devious.

He was like a legendary warrior, standing before a mighty dragon, when comparing the two of them. Both figures were magnificent in their own ways, and were capable of carving out a legend of their own. A part of her wondered what he would be like if he regained his ring, and began to partake in some of the rituals she had endured in her youth. Twisted magics to enhance his powers further, alongside his Ring of Power, all of that combined, and he may just become a greater threat than even her.

As he was now, he was stronger than any of the Maiar. Probably stronger than any two Maiar. With his ring though, with all of that power returned to him, he would elevate his own strength to match that of the gods, becoming as powerful as the Valar themselves.

Seeing him elevated to that level, the thought excited her. It made his desire, his dream, seem like it could one day be real. The ability to stand as her equal, twin gods of darkness.

Everyday he trained with martial weapons, everyday he plotted and planned and schemed. His powers grew with these actions, though he had always had an uncanny ability to chase her, no matter how strong she was. Hiding from Eru Illuvitar had put a stall on their game, but now that they were free from his gaze, her beloved brother was free to chase her once more. She simply needed to encourage it more openly.

If she focused on refining and improving her own powers, than he would start chasing her, as he had in their first life, so long ago. He would scale whatever heights she climbed to, no matter how long it took, or how arduous that task. He would chase her, and this time, morality would not constrain the actions he took to make it to her. If that drive was fully reignited, she had no doubt that he truly would stand as her equal one day.

The Goddess of Darkness, and the Master of Death. Twin Dark Lords of ultimate power. Such a thought filled her with excitement, and she decided at that moment, that she would see that drive in her brother reignited fully. He would reach her level of power, and she would hone hers to the razors edge that he accomplished with his own.

"With the Grey Wizard in my possession, others will come to rescue him. The time has come, unfortunately. The enemy will now know for certain that I have returned." Aegon stated.

"They will still believe you to be weak. That is still our greatest advantage. So long as they do not know of me, and believe you to be in a weakened state, we will be able to move more freely, for the moment at least." Lilith responded, earning a nod of agreement from Aegon.

"Yes, indeed." Aegon agreed.

"What will you do with him?" Lilith inquired.

"He will remain imprisoned in Dol Guldur, and I will use the evils of the that place to drain his power and weaken him. I will either consume all of his strength and empower myself with it, or I use his weakened to state to turn him to our cause. I will see if he can be corrupted." Aegon responded.

"Good… very good. Another of the Maiar turned to our cause will be a great boon." Lilith agreed.

"Thorin, son of Thrain, marches on the Lonely Mountain, with a key and a map, allowing him to sneak inside. Their actions will stir Smaug from his slumber, and we must be ready to capitalize on the Dragon's awakening. Azog will lead the army at Dol Guldur to the Lonely Mountain. The kingdom of Erebor and it's riches will be ours for the taking." Aegon explained to her.

"When the dwarves rouse Smaug from his slumber, that will be our opportunity to interact with him. Once awake, and his attention turned away from the hoard of gold he has, he will no doubt sense your call, and if he has any sense, he will answer." Lilith added.

"Yes. Our plans move forward. Now let us see how our enemy reacts." Aegon stated, his gaze and attention focusing back through his Avatar as orcs rushed around the unconscious form of Gandalf, and dragged him away to be imprisoned.

**-The next day, Harrenhal-**

Sansa Stark heard a whisper that startled her awake. Her whole body ached and she found herself covered in a blanket, but also nude.

She rose up, scanning her surroundings, unsure of where she was or what was going on. The last thing she could recall with any clarity was the creature in the Throne Room. She remembered stepping up to it, being traded for Tommen's life, and then… nothing.

"You're awake." A voice stated, Sansa turned her gaze and found an unknown man standing at the entrance to the room she was in. She was currently sitting on a cold, hard bed, and the room she was in was dark and damp.

"Where am I?" Sansa asked as she pulled the blanket tighter around herself.

"Harrenhal." The man responded as he stepped further into the room and tossed a set of clothes onto the end of her bed. "Put those on. You're uncle has just arrived."

"My uncle? Wait, how did I get here?" Sansa tried to ask, but the man was already walking away and he did not stop to reply.

Sansa quickly dressed, and stepped out of the room where the man was waiting for her. He gestured for her to follow him and she did so, though hesitantly, as they made their way through the ruined fortress.

"You didn't answer my question. How did I end up here?" Sansa asked as they made their way forward.

"You transformed into a werewolf and escaped the city of King's Landing on your own. We drew you to us, and you were placed into a deep sleep by the dark lord's magic. We brought you here, and you returned to normal while you rested, you've been asleep for several days. King Aegon dispatched his uncle to retrieve you, he arrived not long ago and I was sent to retrieve you." The man explained to her, earning a but of confusion but she pressed on regardless, taking in the strange sights of the ruined castle as she did.

Orcs and men trained within the castle as well as all manner of beast, Sansa couldn't help but stare as she was led into a large open room where Benjen was waiting for her.

"Uncle Benjen!" Sansa let out gleefully as she rushed over to the man and threw her arms around him.

"Sansa! Thank goodness you're alright." Benjen replied with a smile.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be up at the Wall?" Sansa asked as the two separated.

"The Night's Watch was disbanded by King Aegon." Benjen replied simply, Sansa stared back with a bit of confusion.

"Come, we should talk. We'll rest here for the day and return to the Westerlands tomorrow. I'm sure you have plenty of questions." Benjen offered, earning a nod from Sansa. The two returned inside, and Benjen spent the next few hours explain to Sansa what had happened while she was held prisoner in King's Landing.

Some of it she already knew, but the full extent of what had gone on, truly left her flabbergasted.

Not only was Jon actually her cousin and the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, but he had also forged an alliance with a sorceress beyond the Wall, and with her armies had taken the Far North and the Wall, and had now conquered the Westerlands. Three of the Seven Kingdoms were now under the rule of King Aegon.

Sansa didn't know how to feel when she heard that Aegon was meant to be wed to this Sorceress. A part of her felt betrayed, but it was a small, childish part that had been beaten down and driven into the deepest recesses of her mind by Cercei and Joffrey. She understood that such a political marriage was the reason that Aegon had managed to accomplish all that he had, he was doing what was smart, and as much as it hurt to know that even when reunited, they would never have what they once did, Aegon had done what was right, and because of it, he was winning the war.

Sansa's spirits were lifted when she heard that Arya had been found, and that Bran and Rickon were safe and well in Winterfell. At the very least, not the Stark Clan looked like it would recover from the Lannisters attempts to destroy them, and for that, Sansa was grateful.

"How is he doing, Jon, or Aegon, I mean?" Sansa inquired.

"He's doing well. Growing stronger every day. I hardly recognize him sometimes, he's got a cleverness to him. This cunning that I've never seen before. I can only expect that he got it from his father, because it's not something I recall any of our family members having. Besides that he spends most of his time with Robb, plotting and planning, and if he's not with Robb he's with Lady Lilith." Benjen answered.

"What is she like?" Sansa asked carefully.

"Terrifying." Benjen replied, honestly. His answer earned a confused look from Sansa so he decided to expand on his reply. "She's got an intensity to her. Most of the time she never says anything, either during meetings, or councils, she's just waiting in the wings, watching, listening. When she does speak, there's an air of authority to her voice, something focused. She's cunning, and charming. She's also powerful, in a way that cannot be explained. You have to see her, and see what she's done in order to truly understand." Benjen replied, his eyes averting as he thought about the strange and terrifying displays of magic he had seen the so-called sorceress conjure up.

Even now, people were beginning to whisper that she was far more than she appeared. Not just a mighty sorceress, but something beyond human. There were some, who whispered of a goddess in the flesh.

Sansa was silent at that, curious and a bit worried. What could that mean if even her uncle was weary of this strange woman. In the end she would simply have to see her for herself.

"Enough of that though. You'll form your own opinion of the woman when you meet her. For now there is something more pressing for us to talk about. Werewolves." Benjen began, focusing his gaze on her and earning a curious look from his niece.

As Benjen explained to her, the secret power of their family blood, and what it allowed them to do, Sansa couldn't help but remember a nightmare she had once had. Something so strange and confusing, that it had terrified her for days. Now that nightmare began to make more sense, seeing Jon turn into the wolf, perhaps it had been some sort of dream tied to her own wolf blood. She wasn't certain, but now she knew more than ever, that she had to return to Jon, perhaps if she explained her nightmare to him, he would have answers for her, about what it meant, and why it had happened.

**-Casterly Rock, five days later-**

Aegon sat at the high table of Casterly Rock. Behind him sat Ghost, the wolf having continued to grow, and now stood as tall as his brother, nearly as big as a full grown horse. Aegon quietly fed table scraps to Euryale, the small serpent had grown larger with each passing day. She was now over four feet in length, and her appetite seemed to grow as she did.

Aegon was otherwise alone with the great hall, save for a few guards, and the occasionally servant tiding up the place.

Half his focus was one the small serpent coiled around his arm, while the other half was on his Avatar in Middle Earth. He had spent the last five days, focusing his power onto the imprisoned Grey Wizard, slowly draining his life force and weakening him. The wizard sat quietly in his cage for most of the time, quietly muttering spells of protection to keep Aegon from overwhelming him again.

His spells grew weaker with time, as his will wore out. Seeing the large army at Dol Guldur march out of the ancient fortress and disappear into the world, demoralized the gray wizard and further weakened him.

Ever since this morning, Aegon had felt something through his Avatar, a familiar power coming from the Grey Wizard that did not belong there.

It was a power that was so familiar and yet, Aegon could not place it right away. More and more he found himself focusing on it, until now, where he had diverted a great deal of attention on the unknown power.

This power took him back, it reminded him of something from his ancient past. For some reason he couldn't help but think of his ring, yet he knew for a fact that it wasn't the power of the one ring that he was feeling.

So then what was it?

It felt like flame… this strange power of the wizard. Flame… what in his past reminded him of flame, and of his ring?

Aegon's eyes suddenly went wide, and smirk spread across his face. He shot to his feet, starling Ghost awake, and quickly apparated out of the room, leaving the guards and surrounding servants dumbfounded at the sight.

He appeared high on a wall of the castle overlooking the sea. Lilith was there, staring out into the west. She turned to him curiously, sensing his excitement, and taking not of his grin as he appeared beside her.

"What is it?" Lilith inquired.

"Narya. The Wizard has it! Gandalf the Grey. He has one of the three elven rings!" Aegon responded excitedly as he directed orders through his Avatar, ordering his servants in Dol Guldur to interrogate the wizard and demand to the location of the other two rings. If Gandalf had one, than surely he knew of the location of the others. This was a most unexpected boon, and Aegon intended to capitalize on it.

**-Dol Guldur, Middle Earth-**

Aegon watched through his Avatar as a massive Uruk pulled Gandalf down from his cage and tossed him hard onto the stone. The orc began to demand the location of the Elven Rings as it kicked Gandalf around. The Wizard offered no reply other than seizing a chain on the ground and lashing the uruk across the face.

Black blood erupted from the Uruk's mouth, which he spat on the floor and let out a roar. He quickly seized Gandalf and placed his hand upon a slab of stone while drawing for a long blade. He intended to cut the wizard's hands off, and as he did, Aegon was able to use the opportunity to see through the concealment spell that the wizard had placed over the elven Ring of Fire, Narya.

The Uruk noticed it too, and held that hand upon the stone, intent on taking the ring and delivering it to Sauron. As he raised his blade to chop off the wizard's hand an unnatural sight drew the wizard's gaze towards some nearby steps.

The Dark Lord's Avatar remained unseen, though watched with immense curiosity as the ancient elf, Galadriel climbed the steps unto the ruined platform where Gandalf was and there she issued a threat to the Uruk.

"I have come for Mithrandir. If you try to stop me, I will destroy you." Galadriel warned, fixing the uruk with a hard gaze.

How she had made it this far without him noticing was concerning to Aegon, though his senses were a bit cloudy through his Avatar, and he had been focused on Gandalf all day, so perhaps that, plus a concealment spell of some sort, allowed such an infiltration.

Quietly, Aegon summoned the four Nazgûl within the fortress, as he focused his senses on the aid, Galadriel no doubt brought with her. He quickly took note of several other presences within the fortress, strange unknowns hidden beneath a concealment. No doubt Gandalf's allies had come in force to free him. The time for Sauron's reveal, was at hand.

The Uruk tossed Gandalf aside and made to challenge Galadriel. In response, and with a wave of her hand, his body blasted into gore, as a shockwave of light, rippled across the sky.

The essence of magic she unleashed, revealed another familiar power to him. He could see it, upon her finger. Nenya, the ring of Water. Now two of the three were known to him. One with Gandalf, and one with Galadriel, the only question was where the third resided? Who would Celebrimbor have trusted the final ring too? If one was with Gandalf, than perhaps another was with Saruman the White Wizard?

Regardless of the answer, now the Dark Lord knew where two of the three Elven Rings were. Even if Galadriel and her companions managed to escape with Gandalf, Sauron had still gained a valuable piece of information.

With the Uruk dead, Galadriel picked up Gandalf and began to carry him out of the fortress. She made it down the steps of the platform to the area below when she was confronted by four of the Nazgûl.

The four began to surround her, Khamûl leading them, each of the wraiths stood in clad in black robes. The had been enshrouded, in preparation for heading to Erebor with the Dark Lord's Avatar to meet with Smaug.

Each drew a longsword and fanned out around the ancient elf.

Aegon felt through his Avatar, the concealment spell drop as Saruman, the White Wizard, emerged from the shadows on one side of the room. On the opposite side came Elrond, and Glorfindel, both fully armed and armored, ready for battle.

Aegon cursed internally, knowing full well that four of the nine would never stand against the combined might of Saruman, Galadriel, Elrond, and Glorfindel. Such a group could even threaten his Avatar, with how limited it's powers were.

"Are you in need of assistance, my lady?" Saruman inquired, as two of the Nazgûl, stood in his path and challenged him openly.

"You should have stayed dead." Elrond threatened as he and Glorfindel advanced on the two remaining Nazgûl who readied to fight.

With Aegon's Avatar so near, the Nazgûl were less likely to flee before the incredible might bearing down on them, but it was still a near hopeless battle for them.

Instead, of allowing them to be weakened by battle, Aegon chose to this moment to reveal himself.

An eruption of fire, consumed the platform that Galadriel had brought Gandalf down from, drawing the attention of those present. From within the inferno of flames, the form of Sauron, in full armor, advanced.

"**You should not have come here."** He intoned through his Avatar.

Elrond and Glorfindel tensed as he approached, but held their grown, the Nazgûl fell back to stand at their master's side as he slowly descended from the platform, fire advancing with him.

"**This world, is mine. The west shall fall!"** The Dark Lord intoned as he continued to advance. From behind Elrond and Glorfindel, a group of Rhosgobel Rabbits came rushing in from behind them, pulling a sleigh that carried Radagast the brown Wizard.

The sleigh pulled alongside Gandalf and Galadriel, where Galadriel quickly ushered the nearly drained Gandalf onto the sleigh.

"**Flee all you wish… the time of Elves and Men is over. The age of Darkness, is at hand. This is my moment!"** The Dark Lord intoned as he advanced, reaching the bottom of the stairs as Radagast urged his rabbit to move, and he quickly retreated with the injured Gandalf, taking him to safety and removing his ring from Sauron's grasp.

"Your powers are weak, your dominion over this world is ended!" Glorfindel challenged with fire in his eyes.

Screeches of rage, emanated from the wraiths, as the form of the Dark Lord shifted it's gaze towards Glorfindel, and Elrond, before returning it to Galadriel.

The ancient elf was weakening quickly, the darkness of Dol Guldur, and the presence of the Dark Lord was sapping her powers and weakening her will.

A menacing chuckle emerged from the dark lord, as the flames around his body pulled inward, and his giant armored form seemed to fall into itself, reshaping, into the ghostly figure of a man. This man, bore the face of Viserys Targaryen. Ethereal, and clearly faded, yet the appearance of what appeared to be a regal form, drew surprise from his enemies.

"**You underestimate the darkness, and that will be your doom."** Aegon's Avatar responded with a devilish smiled as it extended a hand to one of the wraiths. With a bow of subservience, the wraith passed it's sword into the Avatar's hand, and the Avatar quickly began to advance on the weakened form of Galadriel.

Elrond, Glorfindel, and Saruman rushed forward to defend her, Glorfindel reaching the Dark Lord first.

A flurry of strikes came at the Dark Lord as the elf who had once slain one of the mighty Balrog, charged fearlessly into battle with yet another champion of darkness.

The Avatar men his incoming strikes, blocking them as he the Dark Lord's full focus went into manipulating his Avatar. Each movement felt sluggish, slower, weaker than it would have been, have Sauron truly been there.

Yet even still, the Dark Lord held his ground. His time training as a human, had increased his martial skills, no longer was he as slow and cumbersome as he had once been. He had no doubt the ancient elf warrior still outclassed him, but his powers outweighed that of the elf, and he intended to make him work for this fight.

The Dark Lord knew he was unlikely to win, his Avatar simply couldn't withstand the power needed to overwhelm these warriors of the light. So instead he focused his attempts on testing what he had learned already during his time in a new body. He moved more swiftly, and struck with greater precision. It was obvious that Glorfindel could sense the increase in the Dark Lord's skill as the two traded blows with their swords.

Elrond attempted to join his comrade but two of the Nazgûl rushed forward to face him. The remaining two engaged Saruman to attempt to hold him back for a few moments.

The dark lord continued to trade blows with the ancient elf warrior, sword clashing against sword. Occasionally, he would strike out with a burst of power, attempting to catch Glorfindel off balance and send him flying through the air, but the elf made sure to avoid these strikes, choosing to dodge instead of block them.

Sauron pressed forward, pushing Glorfindel on the defensive as he launched a powerful flurry of blows against the elf. Each blow was blocked or avoided. The Dark Lord continued to press until he caught the elf in a chain of quick strikes that finished with a powerful downward strike that Glorfindel couldn't dodge and was forced to block.

The ground buckled beneath the elf's feet, and he was forced to a knee by the power behind the strike. He let out a huff as he held his sword against the superior strength of the Dark Lord.

He glared up defiantly and than rolled out from beneath the blade, quickly returning to his feet as he did.

The Dark Lord pursued him as he felt his excitement grow. This fight was starting to get fun.

Around him, Elrond and Saruman pushed back the Nazgûl attacking them, holding them off with relative ease, as the Dark Lord's Avatar continued to engage Glorfindel.

The two met, blade against blade, both meeting each other's gaze.

"**So this is the might of a champion of the Valar? I must say… I expected more." **The Dark Lord hissed, shoving Glorfindel back with his superior strength.

Than elf kept on his feet, and kept himself ready for the next attack. Aegon was ready to continue his assault, when a blinding white light erupted, from nearby.

He heard the wraiths let out ear-piercing shrieks as they immediately fled the incredible power behind this blinding light. Sauron turned his gaze towards the light, finding Galadriel back on her feet, her form was twisted as she drew upon the powers of her ring. In her hand she held a blazing light, that was unlike anything the Dark Lord had faced before. The light was so intense and powerful, it could have only come from one of the Silmarils.

His faded fair form vanished as hellish flames exploded around him and he reshaped into a shadow of his towering armored form.

"**You have no power here, servant of Morgoth!"** Galadriel declared as she challenged him, her will and the might of the light within her hand, burned at his form.

"_Such power… that cannot be one of the Silmarils… and yet… it reflects it's light..." _The Dark Lord thought as the light singed his Avatar's form.

He pressed back against her attack, channeling power through his Avatar and letting that power explode outward, causing the whole fortress to shake.

"**You are shapeless! Nameless! Formless!"** Galadriel shouted as she unleashed greater power, matching what the Avatar was able to unleash.

"**Go back to the Shadows from whence you came!"** She cried out, as she used her magic to attempt to banish him from these lands.

The Dark Lord felt his power teeter as his Avatar reached it's limit, whatever it was that was channeling the light of one of the Silmarils, plus the elven Ring of Water, and Galadriel's own might was enough to overpower the limited abilities of the Avatar.

He was about to retreat, when a presence passed into his being, a familiar presence urging him onward. He felt Lilith's reach out, taking his head in her hands and pressing her forehead to his. Her encouragement, was enough to keep him from retreating. With a snarl he let out almost all of the strength gathered within the Avatar, unleashing a potent blast of power that knocked Galadriel back, and dropped the elves to their knees. The only one that stayed upright from the attack was Saruman.

Galadriel let out a gasp of pain as she fell onto her back, she felt a burning pain in her arm, and to her horror, she found a hand gripping at her forearm. An ethereal hand gripped tightly around her pale skin, burning it, and causing the flesh to rapidly turn red.

Sauron held the elf by the arm, glaring down at her with hellish intent.

"**Do not think this a victory. You have won nothing. My age has come!" **Sauron declared before releasing her and retreating from the fortress. His Avatar was near collapse and he could not continue fighting until he repaired and refortified it. He left the wretched elf with a mark that would never fully heal, and from that mark, he would always know where she was.

Such a mark would be difficult to remove, and it would take time to accomplish it. For now, the stain of that mark would remind her of the price of defiance. He had no further need of Dol Guldur, at the moment. He could reclaim the fortress at a later date. He now knew where two of the three Elven Rings were, and that, in and of itself was a great boon. He would need to locate the Nazgûl and head out after Azog and his army. It was time to march on Erebor and claim it for himself.

At the same time miles away, the great dragon Smaug moved against the people of Laketown. It had, it's flight from Erebor felt a power echo through it's blood, a power so familiar and yet foreign to it. Once it was finished with Laketown, it would have to search out this power and find out what it was. Perhaps the time had come to meet with the rising darkness and see what the Dark Lord had to offer the last of the Great Dragons in Middle Earth.

**-To Be Continued-**

_**Alright, there's the next chapter, hope you all enjoyed, a lot happened in this chapter so I hope you all followed it well. I hope you enjoyed the chance to actually see Aegon fight in a battle where he was tested, even if it was only through his Avatar. **_


	16. Chapter 16

_**Hey, a few quick notes as some people can't seem to rap their minds around the power differences between Aegon and Lilith. Lilith herself has a lot of raw power, and enhanced that power through dark rituals and the like, Aegon has a lot more skill, and focus through years of training. One is like an explosion, while the other is like a cannon shot. Both powerful in their own way, but now the same way. Aegon's power comes from his cleverness and intellect in knowing where to apply his sizable power, while Lilith is more keen to simply throwing her weight around when she feels like it. While she is also clever and quite intelligence, necessity hasn't led her to relying on those things, like Aegon has. I guess the better way of putting it, is that Aegon keeps his power in check and uses in precisely when he means to, where as Lilith expresses her power, showing it off as it defines her. **_

_**Also of note, some people have noted the story is more closely following Aegon, which is a fair notion at the moment, though I want you all to know that I plan to follow more with Lilith starting in the next chapter, I've been working towards this one for a while as sort of Aegon's primary POV for this first part of the story, and now that it's here I can start following things from Lilith's perspective, so I hope you all have a bit of patience in that regard.**_

_**Now starting from here, I'm gonna start answering your comments from last chapter at the end of the current chapter, so if you wish to see my reply, to your comment, it's at the end. Also I'll be answering these comments as soon as I finish writing the chapter, so hopefully everyone who wanted to leave a review, has already left one. It's at the end so you guys don't have to scroll past it, and I don't feel bad about going in depth with answering them. Anyway let me know what you think, this chapter was a pain in the ass to get through and it's a honker. 20,000 words ahead, enjoy!**_

**Darkness Reborn**

**Chapter 16: What's mine is mine.**

**-Middle Earth-**

The Avatar of the Dark Lord drifted down from the sky, landing in a clearing where the ghostly images of the four wraiths were gathered after having fled from Galadriel's attack.

"**Dol Guldur is lost to us for the moment. Go forth and join with Azog and his forces, we move to take Erebor. Do not fail me." **He commanded, earning bows of subservience from the Nazgûl as they vanished into the forest around them.

The Dark Lord's Avatar remained behind for several moments before returning to the sky and racing off towards the Lonely Mountain.

As it crossed the land and made it's way towards the distant dwarven kingdom, back in Westoros, Aegon took the opportunity to retreat to his personal chambers, his focus still primarily on his Avatar.

Lilith went with him, making sure he wasn't disturbed as he prepared for the eventual meeting with Smaug.

As his Avatar raced across the skies, the Dark lord began to sense the outpouring of dark and twisted magics. The terrifying power of a dragon was being unleashed, and in the dark of night, it soon became apparent just what was happening.

Long before his Avatar caught sight of the dragon in the skies, or the devastation of Lake Town, he could see the red glow of flames beyond the horizon. Aegon's Avatar arrived in the hills overlooking the floating town to find Smaug, the last of the ancient Great Dragons in Middle Earth, laying waste to the entire city.

Back and forth the dragon flew, spewing forth pillars of dragon flame that cut hellish swaths through the town.

For a moment, Sauron wondered what had drawn Smaug out of his slumber? What had awakened and infuriated the dragon enough to warrant this attack? The Dark Lord had only one guess, and that was Thorin Oakenshield and his company of dwarves. They must have breached the mountain and infuriated the dragon.

Lake Town sat in the shadow of the Lonely Mountain, and the ruined city of Dale sat between the mountain and the burning town. A quick glance towards the entrance of Erebor, revealed that the gates had been torn open by Smaug's exit. The Dragon was obviously infuriated, this was no mere passing fancy, he was out for revenge.

A curious sight caught the Dark Lord's attention as he returned his gaze to the dragon. An arrow soared up from a bell tower and glanced off of the Dragon's armored hide.

Each shot struck true, the archer's aim was impeccable, but arrows shot from a simple wooden longbow would never pierce the hide of a dragon that large. The Great dragons had always had a weakness where their chests and undersides were lightly armored, and thus vulnerable to attack. This weakness had been removed when Lilith had bred her newer Great Dragons. Smaug though still had this weakness as he was descended from the original Great Dragons. His size though, rendered this weakness as a non issue.

The dragon had grown so large, that despite the scales on his chest and stomach being thinner than the rest, they were still thick enough to repel an arrow from a longbow.

Only an enchanted arrow, or bow, could pierced those scales now. That or something with a lot more power behind it.

Smaug must have been growing tired of the arrows glancing off of him, so he flew by the tower and clipped it, ripping off the top of the tower, and landing within the city.

Smaug chose to address the one who had challenged him, and began to speak to the man on the tower, who was now joined by a boy, who looked to be his son.

The boy gave something to the archer. Even from a distance, Sauron noticed the dwarven craftsmanship. The boy had come bearing a Black Arrow. A two meter long metal bolt, meant to be fired from the dwarven made ballista. A weapon known as a Wind Lance. Such weapons had long been used by the dwarves during their wars against dragons. They were effective weapons, and their Black Arrows had pierced many a dragon's hide. Such a weapon may even do damage to Smaug, though Sauron did not see a Wind Lance with which to fire the deadly bolt.

Smaug began to taunt the man and his son as he stalked towards the tower, crushing homes and other buildings under his massive bulk.

It was as the dragon stalked forward that Sauron caught sight of a black patch on his side. A missing set of scales that left a clear opening through the dragon's armor. As some point or another, the dragon had lost some of it's scales, and it was clear that this spot was the bowman's intended target.

Using the broken parts of the tower and string of his long bow, which had snapped in half when Smaug smashed the tower, the bowman was able to quickly construct a make shift launcher.

He then had his son act as a stand so that the bowman could line up his shot.

Smaug could have easily avoided this setup by simply moving out of the firing line, the nature of the bowman's contraption meant that there was little room for correction, but the dragon was overconfident.

Sauron let out an internal curse, and flew down into the town, he knew he'd have to intercede as the chances for the bowman to hit his mark were far too great for the Dark Lord to simply leave it up to chance.

Smaug advanced with a roar and began to take flight. Right then the bowman let the Black Arrow fly. It soared through the air, it's design causing it to spiral like a drill as it shot right towards the opening in Smaug's armor.

Landing atop a building, the Dark Lord reached out with his magic and slowed the arrow down. It lost a great deal of it's speed but still struck true, slamming hard into the dragon's flesh, and earning a howl of pain from the mighty beast. Smaug was thrown off balance by the sudden pain and his massive body clipped the tower once more, this time knocking it over.

Smaug crashed hard through several buildings as he attempted to correct himself and return to the skies.

He was quickly able to manage it and rose up into the orange glow of the night sky. He flew higher and higher until eventually he reached the clouds. The dragon let out another roar of pain as he soared through the air.

Sauron was quickly with him, appearing as nothing more than a blackened shade, the Dark Lord appeared before the dragon as it flew.

"**You owe me your life, foolish beast! Had I not interceded that bolt would be buried in your heart!"** Sauron hissed at the beast, the dragon's eyes widening as he realized who it was floating before it.

"**You!" **Smaug began.

"**I will rescind the debt of your life in exchange for your cooperation. You wish for these people to suffer? Than do as I say and I promise you, they will know a torment beyond your wildest dreams."** Sauron offered to the dragon.

For a moment Smaug was silent as he continued to fly higher. After several moments, he let out a growl of anger.

"**What do you wish of me?"** The Dragon asked.

"**Play dead. Let them think that the arrow struck true. Let the world herald the death of the mighty Smaug! Let our enemies come to claim the mountain! Let them all gather together, so that we can destroy them all!"** Sauron commanded.

For only a moment, Smaug thought on the idea. His pride was important to him, and a great part of him wanted to swoop back out of the clouds and burn the rest of Lake Town until there was nothing but ashes. But another part of him, found the revenge he could gain from such a plot to be far more enticing. To see all of his enemies, gathered together, for him to destroy, now that would be a prize worth the momentary wound to his pride.

"**Very well. We'll do things your way. As repayment for your assistance."** The mighty dragon replied.

Sauron reached out with his magic, seizing hold of the bolt sticking out of the dragon's chest. With a mighty pull the bolt was ripped free and Smaug let out a roar of pain.

The Dark Lord smirked as he took in the dragon's pain. This was repayment for ignoring all of his attempts at a civil negotiation. Smaug wanted to play hardball with the Dark Lord, than he would learn what that meant. For now, he would allow the dragon's disrespect, getting him to cooperate was more important, but he would be sure to humble the beast later.

"**Meet me on the shores around the bend. Make it convincing and then slip away out of sight."** Sauron commanded before rapidly descending from the clouds.

Not long after his descent, Sauron got to watch as Smaug descended from the clouds, breathing flames, and making a great showing of having trouble flying. He continued his charade for several long moments as he lowered himself and twisted through the air, drifting over a nearby cliff and eventually out of sight of the people of Laketown and anyone nearby.

For added effect, Sauron could hear the dragon hit hard on the opposite side of the cliff, out of sight, and out of mind. The dragon made a showing of landing out of sight, but also landing in water, so that it would be difficult to locate his body.

On the opposite side of the nearby cliff, was part of a river than fed into the lake, so if anyone went looking for the dragon around where it fell, they would find the river and it would take time for anyone to get the courage to go diving for his body.

Despite being a beast, the Great Dragons were clever creatures.

Sauron quickly moved to join with his new ally. They had things to talk about.

The Dark Lord found the mighty dragon, mostly submerged in the river. The water around his body boiled as he used it to sooth the pain of his injury.

It was actually a pretty amusing sight, all things considered, with most of Smaug's body submerged in the river, and only the upper part of his head, his tail, and the ends of his wings sticking up out of the water.

"**Your timing it impeccable."** The Dragon noted after a few moments of silence.

Sauron stared back for several long seconds before adjusting his form, and taking on the ghostly appearance of Viserys Targaryen.

"And you, are a hard dragon to reach." Sauron began, advancing towards the edge of the river.

Smaug regarded his form curiously, noting that while his form was very weak, the Dark Lord's power was as intense as the stories said it was.

"**You wished to speak with me?"** Smaug inquired, lifting his head partly out of the water.

"I wished to form an alliance. At least, that's what our enemies believe." Sauron replied, as violet eyes of Viserys' form began to glow with intensity.

"**And the true reason for your desired meeting?"** Smaug asked, as he locked eyes with the Dark Lord.

"**She calls to thee… Great Dragon. The last of her greatest weapons. Our time… has come again!"** Sauron intoned, his words earning a gasp from Smaug.

"**You speak the truth?" **The dragon demanded, as it rose further out of the waters.

"Yes. The darkness has returned. It remains in hiding at the moment, away from the sight of our enemy. But it has indeed returned. Our beloved master, is calling her servants to her. You are the last of a dying breed, one she would see returned to prominence. She cannot interact with this world, lest our enemies know of her return before we are ready, so I act in her stead. But I offer you this gift, look into me, into my heart, and see the truth." Sauron responded, opening his Avatar's mind to the dragon and allowing a momentary link to form between them.

Smaug saw into the vessel, and realized that what stood before him was not the Dark Lord, it was in fact little more than a puppet, but that puppet had strings that tied back to the real Dark Lord.

Smaug allowed his mind to follow those strings, and when he did, he came upon a glorious sight.

There stood the full might of Sauron, and by his side, the mighty creator herself. Morgoth.

"_Hello, you wonderful beast."_ Lilith whispered into Sauron's mind, allowing Smaug to know that she knew he was in there.

The mighty dragon stared in awe at the one who had created it's ancestors. The mighty Morgoth in all her glory. Even from such a vast distance, Smaug could feel the overwhelming weight of her power.

Her power was far greater than any stories could have hoped to depict, and it seems that whispers of Sauron's reduction to little more than a spirit, had been greatly exaggerated.

"**Mighty Smaug. The Darkness commands thee. Will you serve?"** Sauron demanded, as he pulled the dragon from his mind, leaving only the parting image of a smirking Lilith burned into the dragon's head.

For several moments, the dragon sat in silence. Finally he rose up high out of the water, with a great deal of effort the dragon submitted, bowing before Sauron, and the true Master of Darkness who he now knew was watching.

"**What is your desire, my lord?"** Smaug inquired.

"**I will call upon a dense fog and thick clouds to hide you. Travel north and join with with my forces at Gundabad. The orc chieftain Bolg leads an army from there. Join with them and have your armor repaired. Then come south and sweep away all of our foes. With your perceived death, dwarves and men will rush to claim the mountain. We will destroy them all. When our vengeance is had, we will return to her side."** Sauron commanded to the dragon, earning a dark chuckle as Smaug imagined the devastation.

"**Than let it be done. Let the people sing their songs of the death of the mighty dragon. Let them cheer and celebrate, and when their hopes are at their highest, I will smash them!"** Smaug responded.

For the next hour, Sauron gathered a storm around the river and around Laketown. Thick fog and heavy rain began to gather, and once visibility had dropped to it's lowest point, Smaug rose from the waters and took flight into the sky. The dragon headed north, as he was commanded, and Sauron retreated from the area, finding a quiet place out of sight, where he could spend what time he could, repairing the strain done to his Avatar, and shoring it up.

As he focused on that, he allowed his mental focus on Middle Earth to pull back. For now, he could allow things to play out as they would, soon though he would oversee the taking of the Mountain.

**-Casterly Rock, The Westerlands-**

Aegon explained all that had happened to Lilith as he returned his focus to his real body.

"Your Avatar is rather frail." Lilith mused.

"We knew that though. It was never meant to withstand the kind of power that I passed into it. The body of Viserys has dragon blood and because of that, it is far more durable than a human body, but beyond that, he was weak." Aegon replied.

"What are you planning to do?" Lilith inquired.

"I'm going to head to Erebor myself, and oversee this battle. I like our odds, but if for some reason our enemies can rally and somehow pull off a victory, I will ensure we walk away with a sizable bounty. More than anything else though, I intend to deny them the Arkenstone. The Heart of the Mountain. A rallying cry for the dwarves. If it's brought into our possession than no dwarven king will be able to command the full might of the dwarven people. Without the Arkenstone in their possession, there will always be those who will think the king weak or unfit. It's paramount that the stone be captured, even if all else fails, so I will see to it personally, and take it somewhere where it cannot be recovered." Aegon explained.

"Why not have your Avatar do it?" Lilith asked.

"It's weak, but it's also difficult to control the power that passes through it. I don't trust that our enemies will not show up to the Mountain in force, and I not wish for them to know that I am there. If I go personally, than I can keep out of sight of the enemy and the area will not be constantly bathed in my power. They wont immediately know that something is terribly wrong. I will have my Avatar return to Mordor. While I'm gone, I leave everything here in your hands." Aegon answered, earning a nod of understanding from Lilith.

"Very well. If you believe it's necessary I wont argue it. When will you leave?" Lilith inquired.

"The day of the battle. When our armies arrive. I shouldn't be gone for more than a day or two. Take my place if need be, there isn't a reason to concern those here with my departure." Was Aegon's reply.

"Oh I get to pretend to be you for a day? It's like a dream come true." Lilith responded with a playful and sarcastic tone.

"Sarcasm is unbecoming of you." Aegon noted with a smirk, earning a chuckle from Lilith.

"Regardless of the outcome at Erebor, ensure that we strike a blow to the dwarven kingdoms that they will never forget." Lilith commanded.

"I most certainly will. Try not to have too much fun while I'm gone." Aegon said to her.

"No promises. Letting you have the reigns to show how you've grown since I was banished has been fun but I feel like the time has come for me to take a more active role." Lilith answered, smirking in that devilish way that she did.

"Oh, and what are your plans?" Aegon asked of her.

"Not much, I just intend to make a few showings, and offer a few gifts to forge greater alliances." Lilith responded nonchalantly.

Aegon gave her a suspicious look which she returned with a smile.

"Well, it'll be good to have you by my side in this. Carrying this entire war by myself was getting tiring." Aegon responded after a moment, deciding that he would play her little game.

"Poor Sauron, a short little war with men, and he's just exhausted. Don't worry my love, I'll carry some of the weight for you." Lilith countered as she moved over to him, placing her arms around him, and letting him hold her.

"I do so look forward to it. Finally having you pull your weight around here will be a nice change of pace." Aegon stated, his hands resting on her hips as he smirked at her. Lilith playfully glared back for a moment, before letting out a snort of amusement.

"Just remember baby brother, you wanted this." Lilith replied, before kissing him.

Aegon simply chuckled at her and kissed her back. All of the pieces were falling into place. Barring any major surprises, soon the Lonely Mountain would belong to them, and with that vast store of treasure, it's position, and it's legacy, at their disposal, Middle Earth would be poised for a killing blow.

Several hours later, Aegon was moving through the castle, killing time until his army arrived at Erebor in a few short days.

He came upon Arya busily training with Sheeka, teaching her various acrobatics as well as tumbling. Arya was agile, and flexible, so these skills came quickly to her with practice. Arya was very driven when it came to her martial studies. She had a list, and intended to cross off more than a few names on that list.

It seems in her time away, the youngest Stark girl had taken on a vengeful mindset and intended to personally pay back those that had wronged her and her family. Aegon was more than happy to encourage that mindset, assassins, hunters, infiltrators and saboteurs were always useful.

He stopped for a moment to observe her acrobatics training, she was showing some skill as she practiced going from her back to her feet, while armed with either a knife or her own sword Needle.

Sweat poured from her brow as she repeated the action several times in repetition getting it right almost every time.

"You see that, it's all about being quicker than your opponent. When you're small and lithe like we are you're gonna get tossed around a lot, you gotta stay on your feet or else you'll get stuck." Sheeka instructed, earning a nod from Arya as she continued to practice.

"Seems your training is coming along well." Aegon noted as he approached the two. Arya stopped her practice when she spotted him and Sheeka bowed her head submissively and tucked into herself, almost in a way to make herself a smaller target if need be.

"It's not that hard once you get the hang of it." Arya boasted, her breathing a bit heavy, showing that she'd been at it for a bit and was a starting to tire, despite her outward confidence.

"Is that so?" Aegon inquired, making a mental note to start incorporating a bit of acrobatics training into his regiment. If he wanted to be as skilled as some of the elven warriors in Arda, he needed to improve his agility, as well as his skill.

Arya smiled back with confidence.

"Well let's see then." Aegon stated as he quickly stepped forward and shoved Arya to the ground. She fell onto the ground with a hard thud and stared up at him for only a moment before quickly springing back to her feet, placing her sword between him and her, a fire now burning in her eyes as she glared at him.

Aegon smiled in approval at that. She was confident, she was growing in skill, and she had a fire burning in her gut.

"Keep up the good work." He complimented, directing his words at Arya and her teacher.

Arya beamed back at him, happy to impress, while Sheeka quickly nodded, offering a quiet, 'my king' as Aegon departed.

Aegon continued on, finding his way to the top of the keep, where he stood out and overlooked the ocean. It wouldn't be long now, in a few short days Azog's army would arrive at the Lonely Mountain, and then, the battle for the mountain would begin. If Aegon's army was successful, and the mountain was taken, they would have a way to secure passage between Rhûn and Angmar. With such a passage secured, Angmar could be reinforced and that twisted kingdom could rise once more. At the moment it was quiet with forces slowly gathering here and there, all overseen by the steward of Carn Dûm, Mordirith. With aid from Rhûn and Mordor, Angmar's recovery could be hastened. At the moment, only the terrifying fortress-city of the Witch-King, Carn Dûm had been repaired, though at the current time it was highly undermanned and could offer little in the way of support, except to perhaps draw attention with a few light raids here and there.

Reclaiming the lands of Angmar would give the Dark Lord the ability to assault the weakened lands of Eriador. There he could hunt down and destroy the Dúnedain, and assault the Elven Stronghold of Rivendell.

Needless to say, taking the Lonely Mountain would be a great boon, though if it couldn't be taken, than weakening the free peoples in the area would still allow him to move almost unhindered through those lands, so regardless of the ultimate outcome, the Dark Lord and Lady, still came out on top.

Despite having the clear advantage, some would say overwhelming, Aegon had learned long ago that the might of the West was not something to scoff at. If the Valar and their armies marched out of Valinor today, Aegon was not confidant that they could be beaten. Lilith was stronger than most of the Valar combined, but she lacked greater skill in battle, and had been defeated before, and despite being unkillable, Aegon wasn't as freakishly powerful as his twin.

One twin held unspeakable power, gained through rituals, sacrifice, luck, desperation, and a number of other, more hellish means, while the other commanded vast powers, honed to a fine edge, and accumulated over many millennia of constant self-improvement. They were both cunning, both charismatic, both ruthless, and both were ready to challenge the whole of the world, to get what they wanted.

They were two sides to the same coin. Power and control. Deception and Corruption. Wrath and Rage. Destruction and Conquest. Strength and Skill. Together they could accomplish anything.

But with that confidence came the constant reminder to not be blinded by it. They were mighty now, but there was always room to improve. The stronger they became, the more likely they were to succeed.

So, no matter how certain things were, Aegon would always have a contingency in place. So that even if he lost, something of value was still gained.

If they took Erebor, than everything was good. If, for some reason, they failed than the enemy in that region would be diminished for years, so it was still a benefit. Azog's army slowly encroached on the Lonely Mountain while Bolg led his forces down from the North. It would take just a little under a week for Bolg's army to reach the Lonely Mountain from Mount Gundabad. They would have Smaug with them and would be poised to deal a killing blow to whatever enemies survived Azog's initial attack.

So Aegon had some time to kill until then. For the next few days he would focus his attention on his training and once his Avatar returned to Mordor, he would begin working on ways to improve it's durability.

**-Two Days Later, King's Landing-**

"They're burning the Westerlands, and already reports are coming in that the Reach is being raided from the Gold Road. An enemy force over ten thousand strong holds Bitterbridge now. They've secured the Roseroad, and cut us off from supplies. Attempts to cross the open country have met with minor success, but every day fewer and fewer supply carts make it through. Willas has raised an army ten thousand strong, and he could add thousands more to his ranks in the coming months, the problem is where to send them. Any attempt on Bitterbridge would be costly, and possibly devastating for our forces, and it would leave us open at Highgarden, but if the Roseroad isn't secured we wont have a guaranteed supply line to King's Landing, via land. We still have sea routes, but that could change any day now. Luckily, Randall Tarly leads Willas' force, so they have a competent commander, but beyond that, we're in a difficult position." Olenna Tyrell explained the situation to her son, and grandchildren.

"The king hasn't held court in several days, and whispers abound that Sansa Stark turned into a wolf and escaped the castle on the night that assassin infiltrated and murdered several guards." Margaery noted, sharing a glance with her brother Loras.

"I've heard such whispers as well, though Lord Tywin seemed unwilling to confirm them." Mace Tyrell offered in agreement.

"A Stark turning into a wolf, her supposed half-brother/cousin is a secret Targaryen, the Westerlands have fallen to chaos, and Casterly Rock was taken by an invading force for the first time in it's history, if I'm not mistaken. What else could possibly happen that could further confound this mess?" Olenna wondered aloud as she pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a tired sigh.

"What are we going to do, grandmother?" Margaery inquired, sensing that her grandmother had a plan in mind.

"We need to leave this accursed city and turn our attention to our own lands." Olenna replied after a few moments of thought. Mace Tyrell seemed shocked by the announcement while his children all shared looks with one another.

"Mother, are you suggesting we abandon King's Landing and the crown? What of Margaery's marriage to the King?" Mace asked.

"Think Mace! The Lannister's have lost their seat, and their kingdom. The Stormlands are still in open rebellion with half the lords there sworn to Stannis, and now our own lands are being threatened. The Dragonwolf and the Young Wolf are on the move. They have the North, the Riverlands, and now the Westerlands. The boy also has a dragon if word is to be believed. We must act, if our house is to survive! Tywin has lost all of his power. Only three kingdoms remain loyal, Dorne, The Eyrie, and us. The Dornish will turn on the Lannisters the moment Prince Oberyn finds a way out of this city and reports what he's learned to his brother. The Eyrie wont answer any call for aid because there's nothing Tywin or the King can do to threaten them, and in case I need to reiterate it Mace, our own kingdom is under attack!" Olenna laid out the situation, ensuring that her overly dense son, and her grandchildren full understood the magnitude of just how much the game had changed.

"What of my oaths grandmother? I am a King's Guard." Loras said.

"You put on that pretty white cloak to protect your sister when she became queen. She's not staying in this death trap, and neither are you." Olenna responded, staring intently at Loras who dropped his head and stared at the ground. He seemed conflicted, but in the end, wouldn't abandon his family.

"Lord Tywin claims to have a plan to try and deal with the Dragonwolf. What if he's successful?" Mace asked, worry in his gaze.

"Tywin Lannister's days of terror and cunning have long since passed him. The Young Wolf bested him at every turn, and now the Dragonwolf has seized his home. His greatness has passed. He no longer has the coin to manage some grand plan, nor a way to reinforce his army. All he has left is the few thousand men in his army here at King's Landing, and the Gold Cloaks. None of the other kingdoms will help him. He's is despised by all, and a newer, more terrifying foe has come to dethrone and declaw the old lion. Even if he manages to somehow kill the Dragonwolf, he still must contend with the Young Wolf who will simply take command of Aegon's armies and continue the campaign. I can see the writing on the wall, why can't you? The Lannisters have lost. If Sansa Stark is truly gone from this place, then King's Landing has no shield against Aegon's dragon. I don't intend to burn with the Lions. Nor do I intend to let my family go the way of House Hoare. Burned in our castle." Olenna responded, her voice echoing with authority.

"Then we will submit to Aegon, and attempt to ally with him?" Garlan asked after a moment of silence.

"Do you see any other way of ensuring our survival in this war?" Olenna inquired in response.

"What of an alliance? Could we perhaps tempt him with an offer, something to not only help us survive but come out ahead of the others." Mace inquired after a moment.

"I doubt we'll come out ahead of the Starks in this, they are his family after all. The Tullys will do well, I have no doubt." Margaery pointed out.

"True, but that doesn't mean we still can't get what we want." Olenna noted, thoughtfully.

"And what is it that we want? Rumors I hear is that Aegon has taken on a sorceress as his bride. Some woman from beyond the Wall, a Wildling. We can offer him soldiers, supplies, and the like, but if he already has a bride, or even a wife, then I doubt that there will be a way to come out of this ahead." Loras asked.

"True, though even if he does have one wife, that doesn't mean he cannot take another. The Targaryens are known for it after all." Olenna pointed out, earning surprised looks from her family.

"Grandmother?" Margaery began.

"We can make him the offer, if he refuses, he refuses, and we'll at least have tried. We fought for his family during the rebellion-" Olenna began to reply, though Margaery was quick to point out a rather important detail.

"We supported one half of his family, against the other half, grandmother. Do not forget that. He was raised a Stark after all." Margaery stated, making sure that, that important piece of information wasn't overlooked.

"True. Though we never fought the Starks themselves, or the North for that matter, so it may still work in our benefit. We need all of our options available. Everything we can offer him to ensure that our family survives the war. We should make every attempt to ingratiate ourselves with the young lad, but at the same time, we must be prepared to settle, and not push it. He has the North, the Riverlands, and an army of monsters at his back. Aegon the Conqueror took the continent with less. We will not let our house burn to ash, nor will we allow our armies to march into another Field of Fire. If we're very lucky, your friendship with Sansa Stark will bare some fruit, and she will speak kindly on our behalf." Olenna continued on.

"If we're going to do this, join with the Targaryen king, it cannot be done from here." Garlan noted.

"No it cannot. And it'll be humiliating, but we're going to have to sneak out of the city unnoticed." Olenna replied.

"How would we do that, grandmother? We're no doubt being watched." Margaery inquired.

"We will inform the king that the force Willas raised in the Reach is marching on Bitterbridge, led by Randall Tarley. Our forces here at King's Landing will march there as well and we'll attack the bridge from both sides. In actuality, we'll use the departure of our troops to sneak out of the city. We'll hide in the back of wagons dressed as peasants if need be. But I don't want to risk what foolishness King Joffrey will try to pull if he hears of our departure." Olenna explained to her family. It wasn't going to be the most gracious exit, but they couldn't worry about their pride at the moment. Aegon was coming for their lands and their seat. If they didn't move quickly, they wouldn't have a home to return to, nor a kingdom to call their own.

The Tyrells were silent as they accepted their matriarch's plan. All of them understood that they were now in a dangerous position. If they didn't distance themselves from the Lannisters and quickly, they could end up losing their home, their kingdom, and even their lives.

They needed to find a way out, before they were all destroyed.

**-The next day, Casterly Rock-**

"Stay close." Benjen whispered to Sansa as they rode their way up to the keep of Casterly Rock. Both were on horseback, though Sansa stuck close to her uncle, eyeing the strange creatures with fear and uncertainty.

"These are those things from beyond the Wall?" Sansa inquired quietly.

"Yes. Orcs and Goblins and Uruks. Vicious creatures, but useful in a fight, and loyal to their king and queen." Benjen replied.

In their time together, both at Harrenhal and on the road, Benjen had warned Sansa of some of the things she would see when they arrived. The castle itself was busily being reconstructed, orcs and men worked hard to repair the damage that had been done to the castle during the siege.

Flying proudly was Aegon's personal sigil. Half Stark, Half Targaryen, emblazoned on a black field, with the red slitted eye over both. The direwolf on the sigil was also white instead of gray. An adjustment Aegon had made as people came to affiliate him with the White Direwolf that always followed him about.

Sansa couldn't help but admire the banners. Happy to see a reflection of her own house sigil, as well as the obvious evidence that despite Jon being a Targaryen, he still embraced his Stark heritage and kept it close to heart.

Aside from the hasty repairs, there was also strange statues that had been erected throughout the castle, in various courtyards or along passageways. Often these statues came in sets of two, depicting two armored warriors. It was difficult to make out who they were supposed to be due to the roughshod nature of their construction.

Interestingly, one of the two statues always bore the red slitted eye that was seen on the banners, either drawn on the chest or face of one of the two statues, while the other was covered in black black cloth, almost exclusively.

"They worship them. Aegon and Lilith." Benjen noted when he saw her staring at the strange constructions.

"They do?" Sansa replied, glancing at him.

"Yes. It was only the creatures at first, and only Lilith in the beginning, but then the Northmen and the Wildlings, and now even some of the Riverlords began to worship them as well. They see the two of them as something else. Something more than just a king and queen. Lilith has shown incredible magics, and Aegon's been showing strange powers as well. These creatures see the two of them as godly figures, and I think some of the men are starting to believe it." Benjen explained.

"Do you believe it?" Sansa inquired.

"I know Aegon isn't a god, but the things he's done do cause one to take pause. And as for Lilith well… you know that rough ground we passed while approaching the castle, you saw how it led right up to the walls?" Benjen questioned in reply.

Sansa nodded, so he continued, "There was a cavern, and a ravine there before we attacked. Then Lilith used her magic and it all came tumbling down. Like the old stories of how the Children of the Forest smashed the arm of Dorne with the Hammers of Water. She broke a small mountain and filled an entire gorge with it's bulk. I don't know if that makes her a god or not. All I do know is that it's not something I want to mess with." Benjen answered, his response earning complete dumbfoundment from Sansa as they made it further and further into the castle until they finally reached the keep itself and were escorted inside.

They were brought through the halls of the keep until finally arriving at the war room, where Aegon and his commanders strategized for future campaigns.

"Your grace, apologies for intruding but you wanted to be notified immediately when your uncle returned." Their escort stated, offering a bow and standing off to the side as Benjen and Sansa entered.

The first person Sansa recognized was Jon. His hair had grown since the last time she'd seen him, he was still clean shaven, and his beautiful gray eyes were as piercing as ever. The moment he locked eyes with her, he smiled in that way that always made her heart soar.

A few heavy breaths drew her attention away from him as a towering beast rose from where it lay and approached her. For a moment, she froze. A wolf, taller than her by a few inches, stood before her. Pure white like freshly fallen snow, with blood red eyes. She recognized this creature immediately.

"Ghost?" Sansa asked. The wolf cocked his head for a moment before approaching her and licking her face, earning a smile from Sansa as she ran her hands over the massive wolf's thick fur.

Another direwolf was quick to join his brother. This one Sansa also recognized. Grey Wind trotted over to her, his steps far heavier than Ghost's. The overgrown wolf nearly knocked her down as he nuzzled against her. Sansa let out a laugh, probably the first genuine laugh she'd had in many long months.

"Alright you two, down." Sansa heard the familiar voice of her older brother.

Grey Wind and Ghost pulled back as Robb approached his little sister.

Upon seeing him, Sansa quickly flew into his arms, hugging him for all she was worth.

"I think we're done for now." Aegon addressed his generals.

"Your grace." Roose Bolton offered, bowing as he and Ramsay quickly departed, an action mirrored by most of the generals as they vacated the room, leaving only the Starks, Tullys, and Lilith behind.

Aegon began to circle the table, meeting with Benjen and offering the man pat on the shoulder.

"No trouble on the roads?" Aegon inquired to his uncle.

"Very little of note." Benjen replied, as Sansa and Robb pulled apart.

"I'm so glad to see you again. Mother and I never stopped worrying about you." Robb said to Sansa, earning a nod from her.

"I prayed for you, for all of you. Every day, I prayed for your victory. That you'd come to King's Landing and kill that lunatic sitting on the throne." Sansa responded.

"Did he hurt you?" Robb asked, his gaze intense, and an edge to his voice.

"He ridiculed me. Had me beaten. If it wasn't for the Hound, and Lord Tyrion, I probably would have done something to get myself killed." Sansa muttered in response, her gaze downcast, and her voice filled with hurt.

Robb looked furious and shared a glance with his uncles and cousin.

Benjen grit his teeth and shook his head, despite his similar feelings on the matter, nothing could be done about it now.

Aegon, meanwhile let out a silent curse and flexed his fingers, imagining Joffrey's throat in his hands as he did. After all, Sansa was his, one of his wolves, just like Robb and Benjen. They were his pack, and he didn't take too kindly to other people lording over them and tormenting them.

"The Hound kept you safe while you were there?" Edmure Tully inquired, drawing all of their attention.

"He saved my life. Probably more than once." Sansa responded.

"He's the one who brought Arya to us. He kept her safe on the road and brought her to us to ransom. They're both here now." Robb told her, earning a small smile from Sansa.

"I'll see the man greatly rewarded for that. That's now the second of my siblings he's kept safe from harm." Aegon said as Sansa turned to him.

He offered her a smile, which she quickly returned. Finally she pulled away from Robb wrapped her arms around Aegon. He returned the gesture, allowing her the moment to feel safe.

"Don't worry Sansa. They'll all pay for what they've done to us." Aegon whispered into her ear. Sansa offered a nod as she held back tears and pulled him into a tighter embrace.

Aegon held onto her, sharing a glance with Robb and then Edmure as he did. The Lannisters would most definitely come to regret what they had done to the Starks, that had always been a certainty, but now it was even more personal.

If felt like an eternity before Sansa finally pulled away from Aegon but when she did, she caught sight of Lilith standing nearby, observing them curiously.

Aegon too, noticed Lilith observing and began to introduce her.

"Sansa, this is Lilith. Lilith, my sister Sansa." Aegon offered.

Sansa eyed the woman, and immediately understood why Benjen seemed so nervous in regards to her. Lilith was a beauty. Pale white skin, long black hair, curvaceous and overall desirable, but it was her eyes that set her apart from other such beauties. The dim fiery glow of her eyes spoke of incredible power, and the gleam in them made Sansa feel tiny, insignificant even. There was something in those eyes that scared her to her very core.

Then the smile came. Lilith offered a pleasant smile and closed the distance between Sansa and her, she offered Sansa a curious once over, before reaching out and gently tracing her cheek.

"Hello Sansa. Your brother was right, you are quite lovely. It's very nice to meet you, I am Lilith." Lilith introduced herself.

"Hello, my lady..." Sansa replied timidly, her eyes still locked with Lilith's.

"Respectful too. A proper lady, not nearly as wild as young Arya." Lilith noted with a smirk, earning one from Aegon as well.

"Sansa's always taken more after her mother, but she can be fiery when she wants to be." Aegon noted, as Lilith turned her attention to him.

"Oh? I look forward to seeing that." Lilith replied, giving Sansa a final glance before she walked out of the room, leaving the Starks and Tullys to their reunion.

"So that was her?" Sansa stated after Lilith departed.

"Intimidating, I know." Aegon noted with a sigh.

"Is it true the things Uncle Benjen has said about her?" Sansa asked.

"I don't know what he's said, but probably. She can quite terrifying, especially when she's in a foul mood, but she can be kind as well. She healed Bran's legs so that he could walk again. So, she's not all bad." Aegon expressed.

Sansa offered a quiet nod to that point. At the very least, she wasn't entirely evil, not like Cercei or Joffrey.

"Let's not worry about it. We should go find Arya, and I'm sure Robb would like you to meet his wife. I'd also like to introduce you to Maester Aemon." Aegon offered, drawing conversation away from Lilith and towards more comfortable discussions.

Sansa smiled at that and followed with her family as they sought out to find the rest of their family.

Reunions lasted well into the night. Sansa was overjoyed to see her sister again, having long feared that she was dead. The two hugged, and spoke about Arya's travels from King's Landing to Riverrun. Sansa got to meet Jeyne, Robb's wife, as well as Maester Aemon, who greeted her with kindness as he did with everyone.

She was surprised to see how young Aemon was, considering he was older brother to King Aegon the fifth, making him over a hundred years old. It was just another showing of Lilith's magic and furthered Sansa's understanding of just why people seemed to fear and revere her.

It was late into the night when their reunion ended and everyone made for bed. Aegon personally escorted Sansa to where she'd be staying, her own room near to where the rest of the Starks were holed up.

"I hope this room will work for now." Aegon offered as Sansa gazed around at the extravagant décor of what had no doubt once been a room for Lannister lords and ladies.

"Thank you." Sansa said to him, offering him a smile which he returned.

"Jon- Aegon… there's something I need to ask you about." Sansa began, as she approached him.

Assuming her knew what she wanted to talk about, he smiled and reached out, cupping her cheek, causing her to take in a breath and go still, her eyes locked with his.

"It's alright Sansa. You don't have to be afraid anymore. I'll keep you safe." He said to her.

Sansa reached up, placing her hand over his as she leaned into his palm. "Thank you." She said quietly.

"Do you still feel the same? Do you still care for me as you once did?" Aegon inquired.

"Do you?" She asked in reply, a nervous edge to her voice.

Aegon smiled at her and leaned in, gently brushing her lips with his own. The kiss was chaste, and as he pulled back, Sansa pushed forward, intensifying the kiss.

The two held together for several long moments before separating.

Sansa was silent for a few seconds as her gaze dropped from his face to his chest. A few stray tears fell from her eyes before she could lift her gaze back to his.

"We can't do this anymore, can we?" Sansa stated, though it wasn't a question, more like a summation of how she understood the situation. It was as if the roles were now reversed. Where once she had been the one engaged and had to pull away from him, now he was in that position.

"Why can't we?" Aegon inquired.

"What about Lady Lilith?" Sansa asked with confusion. She knew her brother well enough to know that he wasn't the type of man to abandon his duties. If he was engaged to this sorceress, than he'd be loyal to her.

"Lilith and I have plans for this world Sansa. Plans that can be aided by the joining of my house to others. Though I cannot promise you will always have me to yourself, she and I have agreed that there will be others. If you think you can live with that, than there is less of a reason for us not to be together. You are my cousin, a relationship that is far more acceptable than what the Targaryens are known for. You have the blood of the North and the Riverlands. She and I have already spoken on it being a good match, if you are willing." Aegon explained. Sansa was silent for a moment as she thought on that.

As she thought on his words, Aegon slowly pulled away, offering her the temptation of following after him, but leaving it as her choice whether to do so. In his long life, Aegon had learned that those who chose to walk in darkness, served it far more faithfully than those who were forced to.

"I'll leave you to think on it. I do care for you, so if you decide you want to pursue this, know that I do too. For now though, I'll leave, less someone get suspicious. We'll talk more later." Aegon offered to her as he headed out, leaving her with a charming smile.

He made his way to his room to find Lilith there waiting for him.

"Playing with your food, my love?" Lilith inquired, earning a snort of amusement from Aegon.

"Perhaps. So, what do you think of her?" Aegon responded as he closed the door and began to undress, ready to settle in for the night.

"A cute little creature, I'll give you that. So long as she's interesting, I think I could enjoy her. We'll just have to see how things go. We've only just met after all." Lilith answered.

"You think she's cute? Doesn't overly remind you of a certain someone?" Aegon asked, giving her a curious look.

Lilith was silent for a moment as she thought on his question, finally she answered. "Nope. Can't seem to think of anyone she reminds me of."

"Sure." Aegon said, not believing her.

"Well, perhaps she may look like our mother. She was a redhead, same pale skin, though she has blue eyes instead of green." Lilith admitted after some thought.

Again, Aegon gave her a look, knowing she was intentionally not mentioning the other person that Sansa shared some qualities with. Someone that Lilith hated with a burning passion. Aegon didn't have deeper feelings for Sansa, though he did have affection for her. If Lilith intended to torment her due to those baser similarities than Aegon would simply forgo any relationship with Sansa and save himself the headache.

Lilith was vindictive, he knew that well, so if she had any plans on projecting onto Sansa, her hatred for Harry Potter's wife, than he would rather know ahead of time. Feelings and emotions were difficult things to control, and while he wasn't in love with Sansa in the same way he was with Lilith, he knew how emotions worked well enough to know that engaging in a deeper relationship would lead to feelings blossoming, even if it was never full blown love, he'd rather not put himself in that position if at all possible.

Lilith seemed to understand what he was thinking and gave him a small smile. "She is dead, my love. Her ghost can do no harm to either of us. I don't even remember what she looks like anymore. I cannot picture her face in my mind. The only part of her I remember, was her screams when she died. You needn't worry, I trust your judgment. If you think she'll be good for us, than I'll give her a chance. I have no reason to hate her at the moment, though I can assure you if she gives me one, you'll be the second to know."

Aegon let out a dark chuckle at her choice of wording, as he made his way over to the bed.

"Do not fret baby brother. We will see if she is worthy, together. Just as we will for all those to come. If she is not, than she will be cast onto the wayside. And if she is, well then…" Lilith began to say as he crawled into bed with her and pulled her into a kiss.

"Alright then. We'll see how things go. For now let's just enjoy ourselves, and forget the rest of the world." Aegon suggested.

"Sounds wonderful to me." Lilith replied as she pulled him into another kiss.

In the days that followed, Aegon spent a lot of his time in talks with his generals, though he did spend a few scant moments during meals with Sansa and Arya.

Sansa tentatively began taking lessons from Benjen and Robb, learning how to control her own werewolf abilities.

Sansa had expressed that their was something she wanted to speak to Aegon about, in regards to a dream she had had back in Winterfell, but with how busy Aegon was, the time for them to have a private conversation didn't seem to come up.

Aegon did express that he would have more free time in a few days, he was just ensuring that everything was taken care of before he went to run an errand. This errand was a secret and would take him away from Casterly Rock for a day or so, at the most.

Only a handful of people knew about this errand, some of his generals, Robb, and Maester Aemon, and now Sansa and Arya.

What this errand was, he didn't say, but it had something to do with magic, something he was doing for Lilith so few people directly questioned him on it.

Eventually the time came. It was a day before Azog's and Bolg's armies would arrive at the Lonely Mountain, and Aegon was preparing to leave.

He didn't make a big show of his departure, offering a quick goodbye to his family and Lilith, before apparating to Tantibus Arcis.

From there he traveled through the portal back to Middle-Earth.

**-Middle Earth-**

Once there he took skies, moving quickly out towards the Lonely Mountain.

It was the middle of the night when he arrived at Ravenhill. Ravenhill was a ruined fortress overlooking the valley and city of Dale. It sat on the slopes of the Lonely Mountain, and had a good view of the main entrance to Erebor.

He was alone when he appeared there, the quiet, snow covered ruin seemed entirely abandoned. Reaching out, Aegon could feel his wraiths approaching up the mountain towards Ravenhill. No doubt they were with Azog and his personal guard. If Azog was headed to Ravenhill, than he no doubt intended to use the ruined fortress as a command post from which to oversee the battle.

Across the valley, Aegon could feel the earth shifting, as several massive entities tunneled and bored their way through the earth. The Were-worms that had been recruited to aid their army, had been used to great affect. They were tunneling through the side of the valley, allowing Azog's army to close the distance between itself and the Gates of Erebor. When the moment was right, the worms would burrow out of the valley floor and allow the orc army to flood out and attack the Mountain.

Down below, in the ruined city of Dale, Aegon came upon a curious sight. Elves, and a lot of them. Woodland elves, from their appearance, and armor.

"_An army of elves… now what are you doing here?" _Aegon wondered as he gazed down at the city. He kept his powers fully retracted, hiding himself within his own body. Much as he had, under the guise of Annatar, he kept his own malevolence at bay, which prevented the elves from seeing who or what he truly was.

Doing so also served another benefit, as he sensed the presence of Gandalf the Grey, within the city as well. So long as he kept his powers retracted, he would have to get very close in order for Gandalf to see him for what he was.

Aegon intended to oversee this battle, though with Gandalf here, it would make it far more difficult to get involved if he didn't want to be seen. The ruse with his Avatar had no doubt convinced the leaders of the West that he was growing in power but still reduced. If Gandalf saw him now and managed to escape this battle, he'd no doubt carry that information to the others, and then he'd lose the element of surprise.

Unfortunately, that meant that he probably wasn't getting involved in this fight.

Aegon sat in silence atop the tallest tower, for nearly an hour as he awaited the arrival of his wraiths and Azog. He spent most of his time reflecting on what he would do in regards to the outcome of this battle. He hadn't anticipated the elves being here. Their presence gave the forces of the West a better chance at succeeding, but they were still heavily outnumbered, and were unaware of the second army, led by Bolg and bolstered by Gundabad Bats, and the mighty Smaug.

Turning his gaze out to the east and expanding his sight beyond the horizon, he could make out the approach of a dwarven army. No doubt reinforcements summoned by Thorin Oakenshield. Even with elves, dwarves, and men united together, they still would be outnumbered. Their only hope was to hole up in Erebor.

Turning his gaze towards the mountain, he could see that the entrance had been heavily damaged, no doubt from when Smaug left Erebor to attack Lake-town. The entrance had been repaired with a makeshift barricade of stone, preventing easy access to the mountain.

He could spot a single watcher upon the gates, watching over the valley. Barring any other secret entrances, there would only be a handful of dwarves within the Mountain itself. Meaning if they could breach the gates, the mountain would be easy pickings.

Aegon heard the arrival of his forces, as they entered into the ruined fortress. The clanking of metal armor and growls of orcs as Azog's command unit arrived alerted him to their presence.

Aegon slowly turned his attention to the arriving orcs, as Azog, his bodyguards, and his wraiths stepped up onto the top of the tower overlooking the valley and Dale.

The orcs paused at seeing him, this strange man in black armor, emblazoned with Aegon's personal crest, formed out of rubies.

Several orcs let out growls and drew their weapons, only for the four wraiths in unison to pull their swords and hold the orcs at bay, preventing them from approaching their master.

"Hello, Azog. I've come to see how the battle will play out." Aegon stated as he rose to his feet and began to approach the orc warlord.

Azog the Defiler stared back at the man with confusion and contempt. He did not recognize this human, nor did he understand why the Nazgûl were defending him.

Aegon smirked at his confusion and allowed his eyes to flash a fiery orange. "Come my servants. Show me what you're capable of." Aegon commanded.

Realization slowly dawned on the pale orc, as the wraiths stepped away from the orcs and dropped to their knees before their dark master.

The fire in Aegon's eyes grew in intensity, before he let out a chuckle.

"Fear not. I have only come to observe. Go about your business, mighty Azog, show me what you can accomplish." Aegon offered, allowing the tension to break, and his eyes to return to normal.

Offering an almost uncertain nod, Azog did just that, and set about ordering his forces, and setting up his command post.

Aegon sat back with his wraiths and simply observed as the orcs went about their business under cover of night. The mighty orc warchief, was a powerful tool. Several centuries old, towering, with pale white skin, marked with tribal symbols. One of his arms had been taken off at the elbow, and had been replaced by a prosthetic. This prosthetic was a long edged blade, that was anchored into the flesh of his arm, allowing him a weapon for use in battle.

Azog and his son Bolg were both mighty fighters, and once this battle was finished, Aegon had plans for the two of them.

He watched as the orcs erected totems, overlooking the valley. These totems bore large leather wings that could be bent with the use of rope. A large horn was also set up nearby. The idea was that Azog had taught his field commanders certain symbols that could be formed with the totems. And these symbols meant certain commands. Azog would oversee the battle from Ravenhill and when he had a command, the totems would be adjusted to the proper command, and then the horn would be blown, signifying to his commanders on the ground to turn their gaze towards the totems to see what their orders were.

It was an interesting strategy, one that allowed for a full view of the battlefield, and with open ended orders that allowed the ground commanders to determine how to fulfill them. Definitely not something that was commonly employed in this day and age. The opportunity to pull off such a command and control scheme, couldn't really be accomplished on most battlefields, but due to the terrain of the valley, it was something that could be done here, and Azog intended to take full advantage of it.

As preparations were being undergone, Aegon turned his attention back towards Erebor. He felt a call coming from that place. The promise of untold riches, it's strategic position, the value of simply having it, what it would mean for the area. He wanted it. It was almost as if it was calling to him.

The pull was strong, almost unnaturally so. As his gaze fell onto the entrance to Erebor, he spotted a curious sight. A tiny figured repelling from the wall via rope. It was a hobbit by the looks of it.

"_What is a hobbit doing here?"_ Aegon wondered as he gazed down at the small creature.

Aegon felt his gaze locked onto the small creature. There was something about it that was calling to him. He felt the need to go down there. To intercept the hobbit, but he didn't know why.

He watched as the hobbit raced across the open expanse between Erebor and Dale. The city itself sat about a mile or so from the entrance of Erebor, so while it wasn't a vast distance, it took just a bit longer for the tiny creature to make it across. Hobbits were shorter than dwarves after all, but this one had stamina, and was keeping a steady pace.

Aegon had never had the opportunity to really interact with this race. They were generally unimportant. The only three things that hobbits were known for was their love of farming, food, and pipe weed. They weren't an ambitious lot, nor were they particular skilled at much else. Most of them now lived somewhere in Eriador, though Aegon didn't know exactly where off the top of his head. That information never really seemed to matter, because they were such an unassuming people.

As far as he could recall, a hobbit had never done anything noteworthy in history. They didn't participate in any great battles, they weren't well known for their artistry or crafts. They simply existed, and to even that point, some people would have doubt.

Aegon watched the little hobbit cross the valley and make his way towards Dale. He ran as if his life were at stake, and as he moved, Aegon couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to go down there. Something about that hobbit was calling to him. It made him anxious, and nervous. What the hell was going on with this hobbit?

Aegon focused on the feeling as the hobbit snuck into the city. It was familiar, and it grew more so, the more he focused on it. It was like an echo of himself, like he was calling out to himself, beckoning himself forward.

It was a queer notion, something that didn't make sense to him. What could it possibly be that was calling out to him?

An echo of himself? It felt like he was calling to himself, from that hobbit. Perhaps some strange spell? No… it was something more than that.

"_What is this? What is calling to me? It's so familiar and yet… wait… that's impossible."_ Aegon's eyes widened as he watched the hobbit slip into Dale and vanish from sight.

Aegon focused more on the feeling, the familiarity of it. He began tracing his pointer finger on his right hand.

"_That's not possible. Isildur supposedly had it and lost it in the Anduin. It can't be here. In the hands of a hobbit! What trickery is this?" _Aegon rose to his feet and began to pace, concentrating on the feeling.

It had to be his Ring. It just had to be. He was half tempted to call out to it, to hear it call back and confirm his suspicions. He hesitated though. What was his Ring doing in the hands of a hobbit? Was this some sort of plot, something to lure him out of hiding?

Why did the hobbit have it? Was it possible he had simply found it, by some form of providence? He was now in Dale, with Gandalf. The wizard would surely notice the ring, he would take it, and succumb to it's power. Aegon felt an echo of fear pass through him as he began to pace, his eyes locked onto Dale as he waited. Perhaps the Ring had found it's way into Erebor and the Hobbit had found it and was taking it to Gandalf?

Such a thought chilled him to his bones. If the Grey Wizard took his ring and learned to control it's powers, he would stand as a force even greater than Aegon himself. Aegon waited in anticipation, he knew it would come any second. The wizard would receive the ring, and their enemies would grow in power.

Aegon grit his teeth and swore under his breath. He waited for it. Waited for the feeling of his Ring being used, of it's power falling into the hands of the Istari. He waited and waited, each second stretching out to a lifetime.

He waited… and nothing happened.

Minutes went by. Then an hour, then two. Suddenly he felt it. The power of his ring. Someone had put it on!

For half a heartbeat, he tensed, and then relaxed. He felt nothing. No great power, no explosion of energy. Someone was using his ring, but it wasn't Gandalf, it wasn't one of the elves.

He stared down at Dale, dumbfounded and uncertain.

Then he saw it. Invisible to the living world, and concealed within the unseen wraith world. The hobbit was wearing his ring! He was racing out of Dale heading back towards the Mountain.

Aegon stared in confusion. Why did the Hobbit still have his ring? Had he hidden it from the elves and the wizard? Was he keeping it to himself? What if this wasn't a trap?

"_They don't know he has it! He doesn't know what it is!" _Aegon realized in excitement as he watched the Hobbit cross the expanse and climb his rope back up the walls of Erebor. He continued to feel his ring in use until it was long within the halls of Erebor.

"_They don't know it's here!" _Aegon said to himself as a cruel laugh left his lips.

He had to lean on some stones as excitement built in his heart. A hobbit was a frail little thing. They weren't great fighters, there was no way a hobbit would be entrusted to carry the One Ring. He had it, because no one else knew, that he had it.

This was too good to be true. This was fantastic.

The moment the battle began, and the chaos was in full swing, Aegon would go down there, kill the little hobbit and take back his ring.

It would all work out better than he'd hoped. With his Ring back, his powers would expand vastly. He would hold more power than he ever had before. He would claim it, and damn the consequences.

Aegon stared at the mountain, almost unblinking for nearly an hour, as he waited in anticipation for the battle. Every second he yearned to simply fly down there break in through the entrance and take it back by force. There was only a handful of dwarves in there. There was nothing really stopping him.

At several moments, he almost did just that, only to then settle down and patiently wait.

"_This is amazing! Absolutely fantastic. So many of my enemies dead. Erebor under my command. A gateway to Angmar. And my Ring back! This is a momentous day!" _Aegon thought to himself as he paced back and forth.

He was anxious now. His ring was so close, he could almost simply reach out his hand, and take it.

Even if nothing else went right today, getting his ring back would make it all worth it. He could take his ring back, and with his enhanced powers, when he finally revealed himself, he would be near unstoppable.

His enemies had no idea what was hidden right under their noses. Aegon chuckled to himself, thanking whatever higher powers had granted him such luck, when an idea came to mind.

"_They don't know that the Ring has been found. The hobbit has it, and he's most likely keeping it to himself. The seductive qualities of the Ring are keeping him from willingly parting with it. They don't know about it, but I do. Could I use that?" _Aegon wondered as he turned thoughtful.

"_Is there some way I could take it back, without the Hobbit realizing that he'd lost it? What could I do with that?" _Aegon questioned before he stopped and glanced up at the sky as he thought on that.

"_The moment they know about the Ring, my enemies will gather together. One of two outcomes is likely to occur. Either one of their leaders will take the Ring and use it's power to try and destroy me, or they'll try to get the Ring into Mordor where it can be destroyed. Either outcome would require a massive army. In fact, something so daring may require all of the might of the free peoples of Middle Earth. If I could trick them into thinking they had it, I could trigger an event where they'd all gather together. I could destroy all of my enemies in one fell swoop, but how to go about it. I need to take back the Ring, I cannot risk leaving it in the hands of the Hobbit, but perhaps there is a way forward. What if I swapped the Ring for a copy?"_ Aegon turned his gaze back towards Erebor as a cruel smile spread across his face.

"_Yes… A fake. Something that looked like my Ring, acted like it, felt like it, but was little more than a replica. I could make a convincing copy. No one would know the truth unless they tried to access it's powers. A simple trinket that reacted to fire, held the same inscriptions, and when put on, would transport it's user to the wraith world. It would have to feel like me, and carry compulsion magics within it. But such a ruse wouldn't work if someone with power, tried to use it. If one of the elves took it, or the wizard, they'd realize it was a fake the moment they touched it. But that's only if they decided to use it. What if they only decided to destroy it? They wouldn't use it, they'd fear it too much. They'd try and get it to Mordor and destroy it at Mount Doom. If they never used its true power, they'd never know it was a fake. What if they did though? Could a trap still work?" _Aegon thought on all the possibilities that could occur with such a plot. The pros, the cons, everything that could happen.

"_A portkey. Set to trigger if someone attempted to access the fake's true power. If they didn't use it, then it would serve it's purpose as a trap, and if they did, then the leader who intended to use it to unite my foes together against me, would instead be teleported to Barad-dûr, right into my hands. Either their entire army would march against me, bringing all of their forces together, or one of their leaders… Elrond, Galadriel, Gandalf, Saruman, Celeborn, any one of them could take it, and try to use it's power, and be brought right to me. Yes… a trap… but how to see it done? Great power will be needed to make the ruse work. It must feel like me, my essence must be tied into this fake, not a lot, but enough to fool those that are to fearful to interact with it._" Aegon continued to think on the idea, as it further developed.

His mind whirled with complex ideas and thoughts as he developed a plan. He would secretly steal back the One Ring, and replace it with a replica. A copy, created through the use of the Doubling Charm. This copy would then be reinforced with dark magics, granting it powers that would mimic simple use of the Ring, but would fail if anyone with the proper know-how tried to actually use it's power. He would need to place a bit of his essence within the fake, to make it completely convincing, so that just short of actually putting it on, no one, not even the Istari would be able to tell it was a fake.

Oh yes, such a thing was possible. He could make some preparations for now, but he'd need to wait until the battle had begun and everyone was distracted so that he could hide the acts of magic that would be needed to see it done.

Letting out one of the most devilish chuckles he ever had, Aegon set to more on preparing everything he would need. He couldn't begin using a lot of magic, less he draw the attention of those below, so he was stuck with just getting everything set up. It was winter time in Middle-Earth, and through Ravenhill, ran a river that flowed down into the Valley of Dale. The river went over a waterfall, both of which were frozen at the moment.

He ripped free several icicles and slowly filled them with his magic, using them as a medium for the ritual he was preparing for.

He recruited the warchief Azog to his cause, commanding him at the moment the battle began to send a messenger down to the army and warn all of his forces that if a hobbit was seen during the battle, he was to be ignored and to remain alive. Under no circumstances was the Hobbit to be killed. The Dark Lord had a plan for the halfling, and it involved him living.

The orcs didn't understand, but they accepted his demands regardless, fearing the Nazgûl and their dark master. Aegon also dispatched one of the Nine to ride out and intercept Bolg's army. They were to be informed as well that none were to kill the halfling.

As the sun began to rise, Aegon finished his preparations and took his position atop the tower overlooking the valley. He watched, alongside Azog, his bodyguards, and the three remaining wraiths as the Elven army, along with a force of men, marched out of the city of Dale.

The elves looked imposing in their shining armor, to normal people, such a host would appear magnificent. Though Aegon was unimpressed. These were wood elves, their skills in armoring, and crafting were middling, in comparison to the armies that the Dark Lord had faced in the Second Age.

The force of men that traveled with them, was little more than a group of angry fishermen, armed with weapons pilfered from the ruins of Dale. Rusted, dust covered swords, spears, shields, and bows. Most of them were unarmored, though the occasional man had a coat of chainmail to keep him safe.

In total there was probably four thousand elves, and around six or seven hundred men.

A respectable force, for a simple intimidation tactic, though if the gates of Erebor had actual defenders, such a force wouldn't be nearly enough to even threaten the great dwarven kingdom, let alone actually assail it.

Aegon watched as the army gathered before the gates of Erebor, and the leaders of the men and elves both rode up before the army to address King Thorin who stood upon the gates of Erebor with his company. Aegon could sense that the Hobbit was with them, on the gates as well.

The human leader seemed to be the man who had been attempting to kill Smaug during his attack on Laketown. It seems that he had survived the collapse of the tower. Aegon wondered who he was, if he was anyone important, or just a skilled archer that the people had turned to when in need of a leader?

He didn't know, but he was far more interested in the Elven leader, which was the King of the Woodland Realm, Thranduil.

The sight of the Elven King brought a smile to Aegon's face. If he could kill him today, that would greatly weaken the elven host in these lands. Attempts to reclaim Dol Guldur would be far more successful without the Mirkwood elves bothering him.

Aegon watched the discussion continue until the leader of the Lake-town men, revealed something in his possession. Again, Aegon couldn't help but smirk as the man revealed that he had the fabled Arkenstone in his possession.

The Heart of the Mountain, a stone that represented the might of the dwarven people, and granted additional merit to the sovereign of the dwarves. If a king held that stone, his rule would be absolute. If Aegon got his hands on it, he'd prevent the dwarves from uniting so fervently behind a single leader. They would instead remain fractured, and would be easy pickings when the time came to conquer them.

He also though that the marvelous stone would be a wonderful gift to Lilith. It's shining brilliance, while pale in comparison to the legendary Silmarils, would no doubt remind Lilith of those wondrous stones, and bring a smile to her face.

Aegon decided in that moment, that he would use that man in his ritual. Kill two birds with one stone.

An incident began to occur, something on the gates of Erebor, which resulted in a mighty shout from Gandalf the Grey. His voice boomed through the air, and was easily heard, even from this distance by the orcs.

Not long afterwards, the hobbit descended from the same rope he had used to slip out of Erebor earlier. As he made his descent the dwarven army made it's arrival, cresting over the opposite side of the valley, near to the entrance.

The leader of this dwarven army was Dáin II Ironfoot. Lord of the Iron Hills. Another foe that Aegon would happily see to the grave this day. He led a force of roughly two thousands dwarves, two hundred or so Ram-Riders, five War Chariots, and a handful of heavy dwarven ballista.

Dáin rode down the slope of the valley and greeted the leaders of the elven and mannish armies. In no uncertain terms, he was telling them to leave. Gandalf seemed to try and talk him down, but discussion quickly broke down, and Dáin returned to his army, calling forth his Ram-Riders to prepare for a heavy cavalry charge.

Dwarven rams and goats were terrifying beasts, when used in battle. They were large creatures, about as tall a full grown man. Their horns were thick, and could be used to deliver and incredible hammering any foe caught in their path. A cavalry charge by them was a devastating thing, especially when one considered that their horns often deflected spear points. While not always beneficial, their horns could force a spear to glance off and away from the ram or it's rider, negating the effect and allowing the ram to roll over it's target.

The dwarven war chariots were also pulled by the powerful beasts, making them destructive tools of combat.

Aegon couldn't help but laugh as the dwarves charged down towards the elves. A battle between both sides quickly broke out, as all three sides felt their greed for the riches within the mountain, overtake their senses. For every elf, or dwarf that died to each other's hands, their combined chances of survival went down.

Less than a minute or two after both sides entered into battle with one another, the ground began to shake. Across the valley from Revenhill, the ground burst open as a handful of Were-worms erupted from the ground, their appearance stopping the battle in it's tracks.

The Were-worms retreated back into the holes they made. Azog them delivered a command, calling for his armies. A large horn was blown, and out from the tunnels made by the giant worms, Azog's army began to pour out.

Twenty thousand orcs and goblins, along with dozens of ogres, oleg-hai, and wargs rushed out of the tunnels, forming into long columns and rushing in to engage the dwarves and elves.

The battle soon began in earnest as both side clashed with one another, on one side, dwarves and elves, and on the other, Azog's army. Their dispute momentarily forgotten as the elves and dwarves united to face the armies of darkness.

For several long minutes, the battle raged. Aegon watched from Ravenhill, memorizing the sight of it, planning of showing it all to Lilith, upon his return. He was sure she'd enjoy seeing elves getting cut down in droves, he most certainly did.

"**They cannot fight on two fronts… Now we make our move. Attack the City!"** Azog roared, as the totems were adjusted and another horn blast filled the air.

Half of Azog's army broke off and began to march on the ruined city of Dale. As they did, a team of massive trolls emerged from the tunnels, each equipped with a trebuchet on their backs, similar in nature to the war beasts that Aegon utilized in Westoros.

As the orcs moved into position, the men of Dale, along with Gandalf and the hobbit raced back to Dale in order to defend it.

The crumbling walls of the city were quickly knocked down by a combination of bombardment and a troll, with a stone wedge attached to it's head, acting as a battering ram.

As Gandalf vanished into the city, Aegon began to set about his task. Using the cover of the battle, he finished preparations for the dark ritual he intended to create his fake ring.

It took some time to see this done, and when Aegon was finished and returned to observe the battle, he could see that it wouldn't be long now before the dwarves collapsed.

The dwarves themselves had fallen back to the gates of Erebor and were trying to regroup before them while the Elves had pushed through the orc attack and had made it into Dale where they fought alongside their mannish allies to try and survive.

"**The dwarves are nearly spent. It's time we made our final move. These lands shall run red with their blood. Slaughter them all!"** Azog commanded, to the sound of another horn blast.

**My lord, shall we move to retrieve the hobbit?" **Khamûl inquired.

Aegon was about to respond as the dwarves finished regrouping, and the orcs reformed their lines in preparation for a final clash.

A loud horn bellowed through the air from the gates of Erebor, a dwarven horn by the sounds of it.

Suddenly, the makeshift barricade that Thorin's company had erected to secure the entrance to Erebor exploded outward, as a massive golden bell lurched through it, sending stone flying through the air.

Moments later, Thorin and his company came charging out of the newly made hole in the gates.

Dáin immediately ordered him men to join with Thorin in his counter charge, and the dwarves rushed forward, rallying behind their king.

"_Persistent."_ Aegon though to himself, as he observed the battle with a keen eye. Not long after leading his forces into the fight, Thorin and a small group of his company commandeered a ram, and the only remaining heavy chariot and began making a push towards Ravenhill.

"It seems your old friend would like a word." Aegon noted, drawing Azog's attention towards Thorin and his companions as they pushed through the orc lines.

Azog gave a command to his forces, ordering his war beasts to attack Thorin and his companions.

As this was happening, Aegon stepped away, followed by his wraiths.

"I'm off to retrieve the sacrifice, move into the city and retrieve the hobbit, remain unseen for as long as possible." Aegon commanded his wraiths.

With the elves and Gandalf fully engaged and surrounded by enemies, Aegon wasn't overly worried about being caught. So long as he wasn't seen directly by the Grey Wizard, no one would be able to see through his form to the truth underneath.

With that in mind he quickly flew down to the city, appearing within it. A few of the orcs, not recognizing him, rushed forward to attack, they were immediately cut down as Aegon pushed through them, his target nearby.

It didn't take long to find the man he was looking for, he only needed to follow the familiar feeling of the Arkenstone. He rounded a corner just in time to see the bowman shoot down an ogre with an arrow through the heart.

The beast collapsed to the ground, sparing it's intended target. A woman… no a man dressed as a woman.

Aegon paused at the curious sight. The man that had just been saved, was dressed as an old lady, dress and bonnet covering most of his features. He wore a corset that seemed to be stuffed with golden coins.

The bowman and the man he'd just saved started to argue.

"Get up." The bowman commanded, disgust evident in his voice.

"Get away from me! I don't take orders from you! You could have had it all. The Master's mantle was yours for the taking, and you through it all away. For what?" The man dressed as a woman replied, eyeing his rescuer with contempt.

The bowman glanced over his shoulder at a nearby doorway where three young teenagers were huddled together, quite obviously the bowman's children.

"How touching..." Aegon commented as he stepped out of the shadows, surprising the five of them.

"Who are you?" The bowman asked as Aegon approached.

"No one important. Just here to collect a few things." Aegon replied with a surprisingly charming smile.

Despite it's charming nature, the sight of it, in the middle of a battle, set the bowman on edge, but before he could react, Aegon seized him by the throat.

Da!" His children called out, the oldest a boy, held back his sisters. Aegon smirked as the bowman clawed as his hand, trying desperately to break free. The cowardly crossdresser turned to flee, only to be pulled by shadows into Aegon's open hand.

"No tattling now." Aegon chastised the man as he crushed the cowards neck in his hand, causing his body to limb.

He dropped the corpse to the ground and tossed the bowman hard into a stone wall, turning just in time to swat away an attempted impalement by the bowman's son.

Aegon smirked at the boy, seizing him by his coat and lifting him off the ground, his sisters cried for him and begged for him to be released. The boy did as his father had attempted and clawed at Aegon's hand, trying desperately to get him to release him.

"Such defiance. Say goodbye to your father boy. You'll never see him again." Aegon said to him, causing the boy's eyes to go wide as Aegon tossed him back into the doorway where his sisters cowered, knocking them all to the ground.

Aegon turned back to the bowman just as he swung his sword at Aegon.

Aegon caught the blade in his hand, and snapped it with ease. The bowman's eyes went wide as he began to back away.

"What are you?" He asked.

"Ah, but I already told you, I'm no one important." Aegon replied with a chuckle, before rushing forward and seizing the man once again.

"Da, Da!" The bowman's children screamed for them as the three crawled to their feet.

Aegon turned and offered the three a devilish smirk before disappearing in a burst of smoke and shadow.

The bowman felt the world rushing past him and could do nothing other than scream. It felt like he was being squeezed through a tube, and when it came to an end, he impacted the ground, hard. Cold stone impacted his cheek, as he let out a groan.

He slowly lifted his gaze and found himself surrounded by the ruins of Ravenhill.

The man was shocked to his core, and found himself unable to comprehend what had happened to him. He heard a menacing growl and slowly turned. Surrounding him was a half-dozen orcs, as well as the man who had kidnapped him.

"Come, bowman… I have some things that I require your assistance with." Aegon commanded as the bowman felt his body go stiff, and he began to lift into the air and float after Aegon.

He was brought into an open area within the ruined fortress where several icicles had been impaled into the ground. The bowman was brought into the formation of icicles where he was dropped onto the floor.

Two orcs proceeded to grab him and hold him on his knees, while Aegon sat on a rock, and offered the man a cruel smile.

"And now we wait." Aegon hummed.

"What is this? What do you want from me?" The bowman demanded as he struggled against the grip of the orcs.

"You have the honor of serving as a principle part of my grand plan. You see, I have aspiration. Mighty aspiration. I intend to see this world swallowed in a darkness of my own making. You have been selected to aid me in this momentous task." Aegon replied, earning confusion from the human.

"I don't expect you to fully understand. Trust that I will build a better world. One free of chaos, and built on order. Speaking of which, the Arkenstone." He began gesturing to one of the orcs.

The bowman's eyes went wide as a third orc approached him, and quickly dug through his coat, retrieving the Arkenstone and bringing it to Aegon.

Aegon took the stone with a smirk, marveling at it's beauty. A gem, dug out of the earth, this stone shone with it's own inner light, and took all light that entered it, and changed it into countless sparks of radiance and color.

It truly was a beautiful object, quite possibly the most beautiful gemstone, ever fashioned by the dwarves.

"_Yes, Lilith will truly enjoy this wondrous stone."_ Aegon hummed in thought.

"My lord, the dwarven king, and some of his men have ridden into Ravenhill. They are close." A goblin rushed into the chamber and quickly reported.

Aegon nodded and rose to his feet. "Keep him here, break his legs if he tries anything, but do not kill him."

The orcs nodded in responses as Aegon exited the chamber. He moved through the ruins and came out of an alcove overlooking the frozen riven and the rest of the fortress on the opposite side.

Bellow him, stood Thorin, and his companions, discussing a plan of action. Thorin was quick to command two of his companions to scout out the other side of the fortress and report on what they found.

Just as he finished giving the order, a small swarm of goblin mercenaries came rushing over a nearby wall, leaving Thorin and his remaining companion to hold them off.

Aegon held back and watched. He would have stepped in and quickly killed the dwarven king, but he suddenly felt his ring fall into use. He knew it wasn't one of the Nazgûl, so it had to be the hobbit using it again.

He remained in the shadows and watched as the battle played out. Several minutes later, the Nazgûl returned, appearing behind him in the darkness.

"Where is the Ring?" Aegon asked.

"**The Halfling has used it. He comes here. We held back when we saw that he was headed for the fortress. The wizard is not with him."** Khamûl explained.

"I see. You chose well then. The lesser chance for the wizard to learn of this, the better." Aegon agreed with the wraith's logic.

Aegon and the wraiths waited as they all felt the Ring get closer and closer and closer.

Aegon couldn't help but wonder just why the hobbit was making the trek all the way up here? It's not like he could manage much on his own. The answer came as the hobbit made his arrival, showing up not long after the last of the goblins was killed by the two dwarves.

The hobbit rushed up to them, pulled off the ring while their back were turned and called out to Thorin.

"Bilbo..." The Dwarf king spun around, and seemed elated to see the halfling.

"You have to get out of here. Another army is coming, this place is gonna be overrun, there'll be no way out." Bilbo explained through heavy breaths.

"_Well that would explain why he's here. I wonder how he knows that."_ Aegon thought to himself.

As Thorin began to order his other dwarven companion to call back the two that were sent across the frozen river to scout out the rest of the fortress, the sound of orcish drums, filled the air.

On the opposite side of the river, Azog emerged, holding one of the two dwarves. He called out the Dwarven king, and then impaled the captured dwarf with his prosthetic.

Thorin was quick to anger, as all dwarves were, and immediately forgot about his plans to retreat. He quickly raced out across the river, intent on avenging his fallen comrade.

His dwarven companion started to follow, as did the hobbit when suddenly, Bolg's vanguard began to arrive. Orcs began to pour over a nearby wall, and Thorin's dwarven companion intercepted them and began to fight.

The hobbit held back, picking up stones and tossing them at the orcs. His accuracy was precise and several orcs were knocked unconscious or even killed by the thrown stones.

Bolg himself quickly ran into the fray, passing by Bilbo and clocking him with the handle of his mace, knocking the hobbit unconscious.

"_Ouch."_ Aegon hummed as he motioned one of the wraiths to retrieve the downed hobbit.

As Aegon turned to return to the ritual chamber, high in the sky, a swarm of cries was heard. From the North a sea of large bats, soared down from the sky, heralding the arrival of Bolg's army. Smaug would not be far off, neither would Bolg's force. Aegon would have to be quick.

He returned to the chamber, as the hobbit was carried in and set just outside of the ritual. The bowman saw this, and his eyes went wide with worry.

"What are you doing?" He demanded, as Sauron knelt next to the hobbit and reached into his pocket.

His hand settled on the Ring, and for a moment, all stilled.

Aegon felt elated as he withdrew his cherished Ring and held it aloft, feeling it connect with him almost immediately.

The sight of the Ring, caused all of the surrounding orcs, save the two holding the bowman, to drop to a knee. The wraiths did so as well.

Aegon stared at his ring, watching as the flaming symbols ignited along the golden band, reciting a twisted inscription.

"One Ring to rule them all, one ring to find them, one ring to bring them all and in the darkness, bind them." Aegon recited the words with reverence.

He marveled at the One Ring for several long moments, and had to mentally fight himself, to keep from slipping it on his finger.

There was a few adjustments he needed to make, as well as a ritual to perform.

His eyes ignited with hellish flame, as he set the ring in his palm. He held his hand over it, and used his magic to cast a Doubling Charm.

"_Geminio"_Aegon thought to himself as a perfect copy of the Ring split from it. Aegon took the real one and placed it in his pocket. He then took the copy and gently set it on the ground before the bowman.

With a wave of his hand, the icicles that had been filled with twisted spells, erupted, releasing a black and green miasma that lifted into the air and slowly began to amalgamate at the copy of the One Ring. The spells he had prepared before hand, filled the fake, bestowing it with powers.

One downside of the Doubling Charm was that it didn't fully transfer magical effects to the copy of the object. In some cases it didn't transfer any effect at all, but with certain magics, it would pass on a lesser copy. Copies made with the Doubling Charm, were also quite fragile, and tended to degrade faster than the original. It would take a few hundred years, but this copy would eventually break down. Luckily, Aegon didn't intend for his grand scheme to take that long. Maybe a century at most, though most likely less. He did have to ensure that this copy was durable, and that it could mimic the most basic effect of the One Ring.

This copy had to be able to transfer it's wearer, partially into the wraith world, so the spells that Aegon had prepared before hand, infused into the object, granting it such abilities. But that wasn't all. Aegon also installed a Listening Charm within the copy, tied to the original, which would allow him to hear what was said around it. He also filled it with a powerful Compulsion Charm, one meant to beguile those that looked upon it, and make them covet the Ring. He also had to make sure that when it was touched by energy, such as fire, the inscription would reveal itself, such a measure would be paramount to the trap, as Isildur no doubt wrote of the Ring's capabilities when it fell into his hand, and his enemies no doubt knew of this quality. Finally, he had to convert it into a portkey, set to activate, the moment someone tried to tap into it, with their own magic. If one of the wizards, elves, or even men, tried to wield the power of the Ring, they would instead be transported to Barad-dûr, where his servants and Avatar would be ready and waiting.

Either this copy would unite his enemies into one force that could be easily crushed and swept aside, ensuring an easy conquest of Middle-Earth, or one of his foe's greatest champions would seize the copy, and try to use it's power, ending with them being sent straight into the dragon's jaws.

Either way, it was a benefit for him. The former outcome would mean absolute victory, while the latter, would simply deprive his enemy of one of their finest.

All of these spells would need a power source to keep them from fading, magic didn't disappear on it's own, it often faded due to use. If the hobbit or whoever ended up with the ring, kept putting it on, but never tried to access it's true power, eventually the spells would run out of juice, without something to continue powering them. The copy also needed to give off his terrifying aura. That was the final piece of the trap, that would tie it all together, and ensure success in some form.

That was where the bowman came into play.

As the final spells sunk into the copy, infusing with it's fake metal, Aegon turned his hellish gaze onto the bowman.

"I must thank you, bowman. You have a great honor… by you death, my trap is left complete. Thank you for your contribution, know that it will not be forgotten." Aegon expressed as he drew his sword.

The bowman glared at him, mustering his courage to try and remain defiant.

"Before you die, I wish for you to know something. The fate of your children..." Aegon began, causing the man's eyes to go wide. He quickly began thrashing against the grip of the orcs, trying desperately to free himself.

"**They will die, in nightmarish dragon fire. They will hear the mighty dragon's roar, and in their final moments, they will know that their father, was a failure."** Aegon said to him, his voice growing demonic as he held his blade forward, pointed at the man's chest.

"No!" The bowman let out a cry, understanding Aegon's words.

"**Yes**…** He comes. Smaug comes for your people. Dale shall burn once more. Dragon fire will swallow the land. All shall burn!"** Aegon hissed and before the bowman could let out another word, Aegon thrust his sword into the man's chest, piercing his heart and killing him instantly.

Aegon stepped back from the man, leaving his sword in place as the orcs dropped him.

Aegon gave the man's body a once over before turning to kneel next to the fake ring. He picked it up and held it in his palm. Quietly, he cast one more spell. A dark and twisted spell, one that was once called the most vile form of magic, ever conceived.

The Master of Death felt a small fragment of his soul reach out and latch onto the fake ring. Just enough essence to ensure that any who attempted to peer into the essence of the fake, would feel the Dark Lord's presence, and feel certain that it was the One.

As his soul fragment settled, Aegon stared down at the newly made Horcrux. He eyed it's creation and marveled at his own work. Only someone with an eye for rings would be able to see through the deception. The craftsmanship was a reflection of the One, but that's all it was. Someone like Celebrimbor, would have been able to look upon it and realize that something was wrong.

Beyond that though, only interacting with it, would reveal it's truer nature.

Aegon let out a chuckle as he took the fake and walked back over to the unconscious hobbit.

"_You have a part to play, my new little friend. You will carry this fake for a time. But one day, you will see it delivered into the hands of my enemies. When the time is right, it will find its way into the hands of greater people, until then, keep it safe, keep it secret."_ Aegon thought to himself as he placed the fake ring back in the hobbit's pocket, and ordered that he be returned outside to where he fell.

One of the Nazgûl picked him up and carried him outside, Aegon and the rest followed, leaving the corpse of the bowman to rot in the ruins of Ravenhill.

Outside, Aegon turned his gaze to the frozen river. There, Azog dueled with the Dwarf king Thorin.

"**Shall we deal with the dwarf, my lord?" **Khamûl asked.

"No. Leave him for Azog. If the pale orc can kill his nemesis, he'll have earned his coveted revenge, and if he fails and dies, than we'll deal with the dwarf ourselves." Aegon answered.

Aegon and his companions watched the duel for several long moments, when the sound of horns blowing, suddenly filled the air. From over the hills to the north, Bolg's army finally arrived.

A black column of Gundabad orcs marched forward, at their front, the wraith that Aegon had sent to inform Bolg's forces to the slight change in plans, led the army.

For a half a moment, Aegon wondered where Bolg had run off too, though his musing were halted when a hellish roar filled the sky.

A devilish smirk spread across Aegon's lips as a shadow passed over Ravenhill and the dwarf king halted his attack and his eyes lifted to the skies, and his mouth fell open.

Letting out another roar, Smaug fell from the heavens, swooping over the ruined fortress. No pretext, nor warning, his first attack saw a gout of fire spill out over the westernmost portion of Dale.

Aegon couldn't help but laugh as Smaug turned to prepare for another pass. In the light of day, Aegon could see that the Dragon had taken his advice and gotten his armor repaired. Over the exposed flesh and missing scale on Smaug's chest, a large iron plate had been nailed into place, it was wide and thick, easily covering the exposed area on the massive dragon's body. No doubt painful to put in place, but now their were no gaps in Smaug's armor. Now nothing short of a dwarven Wind Lance, or a magical bow could hope to pierce the dragon's hide, so long as he remained in the sky.

Aegon heard a loud gasp, just loud enough to break his attention away from Smaug, and back towards the duel between Thorin and Azog. Thorin was now on his knees, Azog's prosthetic piercing through his back and out his chest.

He had used the king's distraction at Smaug's arrival to pierce his defenses and land a killing blow.

Azog let out a monstrous chuckle and shoved Thorin down onto the ice. He pulled his prosthetic blade free and prepared to stab the downed king again when his eyes caught something approaching in the sky. The sight was enough to break him from his blood lust, and actual fear shone in his gaze.

Aegon felt it in his bones, long before he saw or heard them.

"_Eagles!"_ He mentally growled as a swarm of the servants of Manwë fell from the heavens. There was nearly two dozen of them, all but six flew right at Smaug, swarming towards the great dragon but keeping far enough apart that he could only target one with his fiery breath.

Smaug saw them coming and banked hard, turning away from them.

While smaller, the talons and beaks of the Great Eagles could easily cut through the flesh of his chest and belly. The eagles were incredibly agile as well, and Smaug knew that if he allowed them to swarm him, they'd rip him open and tear out his entrails, long before he even hit the ground.

What so many of them were doing here, was a major source of confusion for Aegon. The six that didn't target Smaug, immediately began diving through the hordes of bats, ripping them apart.

A strong light shown out of the west, nearly blinding in it's intensity. The Nazgûl hissed at it, while the orcs that had been with Aegon turned and began to run, even the advancing army of orcs, halted in their advance, the sight of the eagles, and the pure light of the heavens was enough to break them of their zeal, some even broke rank and began to flee.

Aegon glared hatefully at the flight of eagles that chased after Smaug as he vanished high in the sky. Despite being faster than the Great Dragon, none raced forward to try and take him on alone. They planned to hit him together to ensure that their attack was enough to kill him immediately.

Despite his size, if even six of the eagles managed to latch onto him and begin tearing away at his underside, he'd be disemboweled, long before he could manage to shake them off, and he was being chased by three times that number.

"_So… the west is stirring. You plan on interfering do you? Fine then… you can have it! I've received a far greater prize."_ Aegon though to himself.

"Go now, order our forces from Gundabad to return to the Mountain. I will not risk showing my hand at this venture. As valuable as it is, Erebor isn't worth the price to take it." Aegon ordered the Nazgûl at his side. "When that is done, head for Mordor and go through to the other side. It is time you all rejoined me there."

Khamûl was quick to bow, as were the other two. The three immediately set out up the hill to the fourth to inform him of their master's command. Aegon turned his attention away from the soaring eagles and back down to the unconscious hobbit. He let out a soft chuckle as he reminded himself of the trap he had set. The West may have won this battle for the Free Peoples, but he would have the final laugh, in the end, they would all perish, of that much, he was now certain.

Aegon stepped down onto the ice, approaching Azog who was still staring out at the eagles high in the sky.

His son Bolg was approaching, the orc sported injuries, and seemed greatly angered by something.

"Come, both of you. There are further battles to be fought." Aegon commanded as he began to step past the downed dwarven king. A quick glance at his injuries revealed that they were fatal, so Aegon didn't bother to dwell on him for long. His eyes though fell to the dwarf's sword, and he raised an eyebrow and knelt down, taking up the sword and examining it.

It was of keen design and make, a single-edged blade of elven make. The grip of the blade was a large tooth capped in a metal pommel. The spine of the blade was straight, making it good for thrusting despite how wide the blade was. There were runes that ran along the blade, naming it the Tooth of Snake or Dragon. The bluish glow of the blade, along with it's near weightlessness, signified a skilled elvish smith.

Aegon rose with the blade in hand, and started walking. Bolg slowly followed though Azog glared down at Thorin, ready to finish him off.

"Come! His wounds are fatal, your vengeance achieved. Leave him be and let us be away before the eagles turn their attention to us." Aegon commanded, earning a growl from the pale orc, but after a moment he turned and followed.

The three, along with a small cluster of surviving orcs, crossed into the opposite side of Ravenhill and made their way through some of the tunnels. They rounded a corner and came upon an interesting sight, an elf woman, cradling the body of a dead dwarf. She lifted her gaze to them, her face red with tears, and the moment she saw them, she let out a strangled cry, as if realizing something horrible.

Bolg quickly rushed forward, ripping her off the ground and holding her by the throat.

He shouted in the Black Speech, demanding to know where the 'other' elf had run off to after the Dragon showed up.

Aegon stared down at the dead dwarf for a moment, than at the elven woman. After a second a smile touched at his lips and he stepped up behind the orc, taking his arm and commanding him to release the elf.

"Do not harm her any further. This one I think would make an excellent gift." Aegon stated, putting just enough pressure on Bolg's arm to cause him to release the elf who immediately collapsed to the ground, exhausted and thoroughly put through the ringer.

Aegon knelt next to her, her eyes staring off into the open space. Whatever realization she must have had, seemed to have broken her. If Aegon had to guess, given Bolg's question, she probably thought he had killed whoever this 'other' elf was. Or maybe she understood the Black Speech, and simply was too exhausted to put up anymore of a fight. Either way, Aegon couldn't help but smile as he considered what he was going to do with her.

It had been a long time since Lilith had, had an elf to play with. She would definitely enjoy having one to torment and ravage.

"Both of you… join up with our forces from Gundabad, and make for Moria. With the Balrog gone from there, the Dwarves will one day soon attempt to take it back. It may not be for many years, with what they lost here today, but they are stubborn creatures. Fortify the mines and begin preparing for that day. I will send my agents to help maintain contact. You've both done well in serving me, and I will see you greatly rewarded for it." Aegon commanded to the two orcs. Both stared down at him and offered nods and bows before quickly racing off.

Aegon continued to stare at the elf for several long moments before reaching out with his mind, attempting to locate Smaug.

"_Mighty Smaug, can you hear me?"_

"_**Yes."**_ The dragon replied, sounding irate and thoroughly infuriated.

"_The arrival of the Eagles was unforeseen, we will have to wait on our vengeance. Head for Mordor, to my fortress as Barad-dûr. There you will meet an emissary of mine, he will show you how to reach our beloved master. Return to us there, and join in future glories."_ Aegon informed the dragons.

"_**Very well. I will look upon her glory, and show her the might of Smaug, the magnificent!**_" The dragon responded, earning a chuckle from Aegon.

Slowly he reached out, placing his hand on the elf woman's shoulder. He could feel someone approach, so he quickly took to the skies, carrying her catatonic form with him.

He began to race away from the Mountain, returning to Mordor. Today had been a long day, but he had great and unexpected boons to show for it.

An elf maiden to offer as a plaything, the Arkenstone, a jewel of special magnificence, and his Ring. As Aegon flew through the air, he allowed himself to feel the Ring within his pocket. Upon his return to Mordor, he would make a few adjustments to the Ring itself. He would have to temporarily bind it's connection to the Three Elven Rings, so that when he put on the One, the three who carried the Elven Rings, would not feel him do so. He may lose the ability to influence those ring-bearers for the moment, but it would be worth it to keep them in the dark for a bit longer. He also needed to find out who held the last of the three. Gandalf had one, Galadriel another. Logic would indicate that either Celeborn, or Elrond held the last. During the battle at Dol Guldur, Aegon's Avatar had been focused on Glorfindel rather than Elrond Half-elven, and thus didn't notice if he had the last of the three or not. All he knew for certain was that Glorfindel wasn't wearing it, so that left only a few suspects.

Until Aegon could collect the three Elven rings and corrupt them, it would simply be best to temporarily block their tie to the One Ring, so that when he finally put it on, they'd be left in the dark.

With the return of his Ring, Aegon felt that their victory in Middle-Earth was all but assured. He was more than happy to allow the Free Peoples, this victory. The Lonely Mountain was nothing in comparison to the whole world. He would return one day, and take it, for now though, the servants of Manwë had outplayed him, and he suspected this was a direct result of the Valars interference in Essos. The West was stirring, and that meant that soon, it would be time for Lilith to reveal herself.

For now though, it was a time to celebrate. He had his ring back, and a few gifts to return to his beloved. The future was looking quite bright from Aegon's point of view… no doubt he would enjoy the days to come. Middle-Earth's days were numbered, they just didn't know it yet. All that was left was to draw their heads firmly under the guillotine and watch it fall.

It was a beautiful image, of that he was certain.

**-To Be Continued-**

_**Alright, this chapter was a monster. Hope you all enjoyed my little take on the Battle of the Five Armies. Any questions or comments, do please let me know, I'll always answer what I can. Hopefully now that we've got this whole part out of the way we can focus a bit more from Lilith's point of view. Hope your all ready for it. Till later.**_

_**Reply time!:**_

_**Seraphina Nova Black:**** Lilith is, and has always been the more powerful of the two, as I explained above, and as is noted in the story. She's the freak of nature with a lot of power. While she had intelligence and skill, she doesn't rely on them as Aegon was forces to as Harry Potter during their first life when she was also way more powerful than him. So while they are both strong, they are strong in their own way, and I apologize for having Lilith sidelines recently, but I was building towards this chapter for a while, and now that it's here I can finally drift more towards Lilith's POV.**_

_**Mari Wollsch:**** I hope you enjoy! :)**_

_** 1:**** Here's your update, hope it was worth the wait.**_

_**BlueDensity****: Fair Points all around, though I have mostly stuck with Aegon's perspective recently as it pertains to building up towards these events, as I follow a specific timeline. You may have noticed that I've been following the Hobbit Timeline and because of the nature of keeping out of sight for the moment, Lilith doesn't have much to do. Westoros itself is a trick, they could easily wash over it, if they wanted to but they're keeping it intact at the moment, and the arrival of Rómestámo, it something that is also keeping Lilith's influence down a bit, as they don't want the Valar to know she's back, so everything being in Jon's name is meant to aid that keeping hidden. You are right, she is one of the gods, and she is overly prideful, but deception and trickery are tools that she's fond of, and hiding in plain sight while her enemy focus on Aegon is just building the anticipation for her ultimate reveal. Believe me, she wants to show herself, but she only gets to do it once, and the moment she does it, she basically triggers the apocalypse in Arda so she has to time it right. Remember one huge difference between Morgoth and Lilith, Morgoth wanted to destroy all of Eru's and the Valar's work, out of spite, Lilith want's to kill Eru, and the Valar. She can't just go on as Morgoth did, showing up and wrecking things, she had to plot out a way to kill her intended targets, and the best way to do that is ensure they don't see her coming. ****Anyway, if you still read, I hope this makes sense, and as I noted above, following Aegon has been an intentional set-up to get to here, but now that this chapter is done with, I can start to focus on following Lilith more since the story will open up for a while without Hobbit Material to follow.**_

_**ValteriaBiggles:**** The balance of power will always be that Lilith is power and Aegon is control. While Aegon will raise his power, and Lilith will hone her control, at the end of the day, Lilith is a god, while Aegon is an unkillable angel of death. Both are monsters in their own right, and the gap between them will close a bit, but they'll never equal out, one for one, if that makes sense.**_

_**koseta.a:**** :)**_

_**Scarlet Nerd:**** Thanks, hope you enjoy this chapter, took a while to get it done.**_

_**Trinity seven:**** Yeah the Haradrim will be gathered in the following chapters. They most certainly are players in this game after all.**_

_**Blacked6666:**** Thank you!**_

_**DirtyCat:**** Here you go. :)**_

_**veil of silence:**** Thanks, hope you enjoy**_

_**Guest:**** Here it is!**_

_**SlyMonster:**** You're most welcome.**_

_**Keylerbrito17:**** I hope this was worth the wait.**_

_**Naruto:**** Thanks!**_

_**Godisme: ****Yep, don't underestimate Sauron. Yep, we'll be seeing Mordirith in this story, and we'll hear more about Galadriel's injuries in future chapters. Sauron will take on his true name the moment his enemies see through his disguise. So long as they don't know for certain that it's him, the name still hides his identity. Once they know though, then he'll take his true name. I agree, there are many good women that could fit that role. As for Tommen, well we'll just have to see.**_

**38Solaire38:**** Yep, Smaug's up, yep, it was the company. Thanks and I hope you enjoy.**

**Let me know if you guys have any other questions, until later.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Okay, here's the next chapter, sorry this took so fucking long, I had a bad case of Writers block and could figure out how I wanted to advance. There are parts of this chapter I wrote four or five times before I finally got them the way I wanted them. Sorry again for the long wait. Hope my writers block is finally passed. This chapter we'll start to follow Lilith a bit more, and hopefully as further chapters go on we can see things following her more and more. Hopefully less focus on just Aegon from now on.**

**Darkness Reborn**

**Chapter 17:** **The Dark Lord Returns.**

**-Ravenhill, Middle Earth-**

Gandalf the Grey slowly made his way over to the collection of dwarves as they surrounded the fallen body of their king. Thorin lay on his back, staring up at the skies, his breathing was shallow and lifeless, his stare unfocused.

His fellows and former members of his company, quietly mourned as the mighty dwarf slowly faded from this life.

Despite their survival and apparent victory, none celebrated. The men of Laketown were terrified that Smaug would soon return, as were the dwarves. The elven force had been decimated by the battle, and they were planning a quick retreat to their own realm. The arrival of the dragon was unexpected and it was only by the grace of the eagles that any of them were alive.

"Gandalf..." The old wizard heard the broken king mutter his name as he stepped into view.

Putting on a comforting smile, Gandalf stepped past the dwarves who parted way for him and he knelt by Thorin's side.

"Gandalf… he lives… the dragon lives… Azog lives..." Thorin uttered, pain and blood coloring his voice.

Gandalf offered a slow nod at that, knowing that they were all in a precarious position.

"Erebor has been reclaimed. The Dwarves have taken back their home. They will be ready should Smaug attempt to return, should Azog attempt to retaliate." Gandalf offered to the dying king.

"There... was... another…!" Thorin struggled to get out.

"Another?" Gandalf questioned.

"I- I heard the voice of… I heard a man… I did not see him, but I heard him." Thorin gasped.

"A man?" Gandalf replied, earning an affirmation from the fallen dwarven king.

Gandalf sat in silence, concern etched in his eyes. He offered a nod to the dying king and reached out, placing a hand over Thorin's and offering him what little comfort he could before rising to his feet.

His eyes turned towards a nearby tower where Gwaihir the Windlord, the Lord of the Great Eagles sat perched. The eagle stared back at Gandalf, an unspoken conversation held with their eyes. Gandalf knew that Thorin was a goner, there was only one who could possibly heal the Dwarven King, yet he was miles away in Lothlórien, no doubt recuperating from the battle at Dol Guldur. Lord Elrond could possibly heal the dying king, but only if he were taken there with the utmost of swiftness, and even then, the possibility was slim.

Gwaihir understood what Gandalf was thinking and spread his wings.

"My friends, please stand back. The king may yet find the strength to pull through this." Gandalf spoke, earning a look from the dwarves as he knelt back down by Thorin's side and placed a hand over his chest. Gandalf quickly whispered a handful of spells, calling upon what healing magics he knew to help preserve what little life was left in the dwarven king.

"What are you planning, Gandalf? Is there a way to save him?" One of the dwarves asked.

"I can give no guarantees, only offer a small hope. Lord Elrond may be able to heal him, but only if Thorin reaches him in time. He must go to him with great swiftness." Gandalf responded as he rose to his feet and ushered the dwarves back.

They watched on as the Lord of the Eagles rose up into the air and drifted forward, gently picking up the dwarven king in his talons and taking to the skies. As he rose up, the dwarves called out prayers and encouragement, begging their king to fight for every second of life.

Gandalf offered his own silent prayer to the powers that be. Thorin's survival would provide a desperately needed boon to their cause. One that would do well to raise spirits after what had happened. There wasn't much hope, only a fool's hope really, but still, it never hurt to try.

Gandalf stepped back, and allowed Thorin's kin and comrades to continue offering their hopes as the eagle quickly left the Lonely Mountain behind. Bilbo Baggins sat nearby, watching the sight mournfully, having already shared final words with his friend the king, despite it not being said, he seemed to also understand that their was little hope.

Yet still, Gandalf could hear him offer a quiet prayer of hope to his friend.

Gandalf offered him a look which caught the hobbit's attention. When their eyes met, Gandalf gave him a small, grateful, smile. To show his friend that he was happy that he had survived.

Bilbo returned it, though it didn't hold for long, the pain of recent events still stung to clearly.

"Mithrandir." Gandalf heard his name. He turned to find an elf approaching him.

"Yes?" The old wizard inquired.

"King Thranduil asks for you." The elf soldier informed him.

Gandalf offered a nod and followed as the soldier led him into the underbelly of Ravenhill.

They arrived in a chamber where the body of Bard lay with a sword impaled through his chest. The sight caused Gandalf's heart to break, knowing that a good man had lost his life this day. It took him a moment but he began to realize that something further was off than just the dead man. It was something the elves noticed as well.

King Thranduil and his son Legolas stood over the fallen man, sorrow, suspicion, and uncertainty filled their gazes.

"My lord..." Gandalf greeted the king, earning a quick glance from Thranduil before he returned his eyes to the body of Bard.

"The Arkenstone is gone, and some foul magic was performed here." Thranduil noted aloud.

"A servant of Sauron, no doubt. Thorin Oakenshield will most likely pass from his injuries, but the Lord of the Eagles has offered to take him to Lord Elrond, it is my hope that he may be able to heal the Dwarven King. Before he departed though, he told me he heard a man, with the orcs." Gandalf offered to the two as he gazed at the shattered ice that lay strewn about the room. A twisted malevolence hung in the air, like the cold fingers of death. All three had been around corpses before but the feeling in the air was more in line with that of a haunted graveyard, than a single dead man.

"His body bares no signs of torture, save for a few injuries from the battle. The blade passed cleanly through him, no hesitation. Yet he appears haunted. The pain and horror reflected in his eyes..." Legolas expressed, sharing a glance with his father, before turning his gaze to the Gray Wizard who was now kneeling over the broken pieces of ice that lay conspicuously around Bard's body, encircling him but not touching his body.

"Some unknown magic was performed here. A ritual of some sort. In all my years though I have never come across it's like. This feeling, it's unnatural." Gandalf concluded as he ran a hand over the ice, feeling the cold stain of a malevolent magic still lingering within the frozen crystals. The chill that would have normally been of little bother, burned at his fingertips and the cold fingers of dread seemed to dance up his arm.

"You were right, Mithrandir. About everything. It's so very obvious to me now. We have all been played for fools." Thranduil admitted after several moments of silence, earning a sigh from Gandalf as he rose back to his feet.

"I wish my warning had been more accurate. This goes far beyond what I had imagined. When I encouraged Thorin and his company to reclaim the Lonely Mountain I had hoped to deny the enemy the position as well as remove the opportunity for our enemy to ally with the Dragon. It seems though, we have been outplayed. Smaug arrived with Bolg's army, this whole thing was a trap." Gandalf surmised.

"With the aid of a dragon, the Dark Lord's power has grown vastly. The other lands must be warned." Legolas stated.

"They will be. I will personally deliver word to Lord Elrond, and I will inform the rest of the White Council before departing to Rohan and Gondor." Gandalf responded, earning a nod of acceptance from Thranduil.

"There is something else. Tauriel, she's gone missing. She was here with me, but I cannot locate her." Legolas stated quietly, earning a look of concern from Gandalf.

"Who is she, this person you speak of?" Gandalf asked.

"A captain among my ranks. If the orcs have captured her, surely they would have left a trail." Thranduil answered.

"But there was none. Azog and Bolg are easy enough to follow, but there is no sign that Tauriel left this fortress." Legolas responded.

"That is concerning. Perhaps this mannish ally of the orcs had something to do with it?" Thranduil suggested after a moment of thought.

"We cannot know where they have gone too. If she was a captain among your forces, I would strongly suggest you rethink the defenses of your kingdom, anything she may have known could now be in the hands of the enemy." Gandalf implored, earning a saddened look from Thranduil though he offered a nod of agreement.

His son Legolas, meanwhile turned away from the two, anger flashing in his eyes for a moment.

"Is there nothing we can do for her?" Legolas asked aloud.

"There may be something." Gandalf offered, before Thranduil dashed his hopes.

His answer earned the attention of both the elves.

"Thorin did say he heard the voice of the man while he lay dying, meaning he was with Azog. Azog despises men and dwarves and elves. He would only play party to one if that man held significant strength or stood as a chief servant of the enemy." Gandalf began to explain.

"What are you thinking, Mithrandir?" Thranduil inquired.

"There is only one race of men that Sauron ever held to high regard, even if it was only in hatred." Gandalf noted as father and son shared a look with one another.

"A Black Númenórean?" Legolas inquired, his eyes widening slightly, as Gandalf nodded.

"I will speak with the members of the White Council, and perhaps see if any of them have heard whispers of a man rising in the ranks of our enemy. Though perhaps the Dúnedain would know more. A rogue among their ranks. If Sauron has been dwelling in Dol Guldur these last few years, it's reasonable to suggest that perhaps this mannish agent hails from the ruins of the Northern kingdom. If we could learn his identity, we may have a way of rescuing your friend." Gandalf explained to the two, earning a nod of agreement from Legolas, while Thranduil seemed to think on the matter for a moment.

He then turned to his son, and saw the determination in his gaze. Knowing full well that he intended to find and rescue the elf captain, Thranduil saw little point in trying to dissuade him.

"Seek out the Dúnedain, there is a young ranger amongst them, I think you should meet him. He may be able to help in giving us information, or perhaps his people can offer greater aid. If this is one of the Black Númenóreans, than the Dúnedain will surely wish to sever this tie to the darkness." Thranduil instructed, earning a nod from his son.

"This Ranger, how do I find him?" Legolas inquired.

"Among the wilds he's known as Strider. His father Arathorn was a good man. His son may grow into an even better one. If anyone can help you, I'm certain he can." Thranduil answered, his son offering him a parting gesture and a nod to Gandalf before he turned and left the chamber.

Gandalf quietly turned his gaze back to Bard, and let out a sigh, without the aid of the eagles, the day's events would have gone much differently. This had all been a trap, and they were lucky to still be alive. Now things had just gotten worse. Sauron had returned, and he now had an alliance with Smaug. Action would need to be taken, and immediately. Despite being diminished, Sauron's power had returned, at least in part. His threat had also grown with this new alliance.

Yes, action must be taken immediately, less the whole of Middle Earth fall under the Dark Lord's influence.

**-That same day, Casterly Rock, Westeros-**

Lilith awoke, stretching her limbs and letting out a sigh. Pleasant dreams quickly fading. She glanced around the room and found her bed empty. She made a noise as her thoughts turned towards Aegon, he'd been gone for a while already and she wondered how the battle at Erebor was going. She hoped he'd be back soon.

She'd grown use to his presence in their bed, and his absence this night had made it difficult to sleep. When she did though, her dreams were of him and their time together which led to a much more restful slumber.

Letting out another sigh she rose to her feet and dressed herself. Her stirring roused the large slumbering wolf that lay at the foot of the bed. Ghost slowly sat up as she readied herself for the day and quickly followed her as she made to leave.

Before departing, Lilith tracked down where Euryale was hiding and collected the serpent to take with her.

She then headed down to the Great Hall to enjoy a bit of breakfast before proceeding with the day's events.

With Aegon gone for a few days, Lilith had the intention of building the loyalty of her newest servants and ensuring that word would spread not only of her destructive power, but also her greatness. She was still a mystery at the moment, and had allowed Aegon to use his ties and family name to gain them some momentum in propelling towards their goal of conquering these lands, but the time had now come for her to start adding onto it as well. Ensuring that their servants were loyal to both of them, would ensure greater success in future conquests and the establishment of their own dark realm.

She arrived at around the same time as Sansa Stark was, and quickly approached the young werewolf.

"Hello Sansa." Lilith greeted, earning Sansa's attention.

"My lady." Sansa offered in reply, a small curtsy in greeting that displayed an air of politeness, but Lilith easily saw through the mask. Sansa war weary of her, and most likely, a bit jealous. She held great affection for Aegon, probably loved him, if not for the taboo nature of her feelings for him, she would probably be more willing to display what resentment she felt towards Lilith.

Whether she chose to act on those feelings would determine how Lilith dealt with her. If the little wolf proved to be a fun and passionate plaything, than she'd get to keep Aegon's affections, and if not, Lilith would be quick to deal with her.

Deciding that now was as good a time as any to start testing what would probably be the first of many concubines, Lilith approached Sansa, offering her arm and guiding her forward into the hall.

"Come, break your fast with me, I'd like to talk with you." Lilith offered, earning a tentative nod from the young woman.

The two sat together as they ate, getting through their meal with little conversation, though once they were both done, Lilith took the opportunity to begin speaking with Sansa.

"You needn't be so nervous. I know I can be intimidating but I mean you no harm. Aegon speaks very highly of you, I can tell that he holds you in high regard." Lilith expressed, trying to get Sansa to come out of her shell a bit and begin talking.

"Thank you, my lady. He's spoken very highly of you as well." Sansa responded.

"That's good to hear. I'd hate to think my affections were wasted on someone who felt nothing for them." Lilith noted, nodding to herself.

"I can assure you my lady, he definitely feels something for you. I see the way his eyes light up whenever you enter the room." Sansa offered, as hard as it was to admit.

"Oh? Well that does raise my spirits. Has he spoken to you in regards to our intentions?" Lilith inquired.

"Your intentions…?" Sansa responded, unsure of exactly what she was referring to.

"In regards to you." Lilith clarified.

Sansa blushed at that, her eyes drifting down to the table. "He may have mentioned it. I didn't know what to make of his offer."

"Understandable. It isn't exactly a normal thing. But it is in a dragon's nature to take what they desire, and I believe I've noticed some of his desires directed towards you." Lilith stated, her words causing Sansa to blush further.

Lilith felt a smirk tug at her lips as Sansa struggled to collect herself. She was obviously deeply infatuated with Aegon, and would no doubt be a willing bed partner. She was decent looking, so Lilith had no issues when it came to that. All that remained was whether she'd be an obedient and dutiful bed partner, or if she'd seek to challenge Lilith for what belonged to the Dark Lady.

As of right now, it didn't seem so, this young woman was a bit timid, when it came to matters of the heart. It seemed, for the moment at least, that Sansa would be quite pliable when it came to the bedroom, which worked in Lilith's favor. If she could mold an obedient concubine, than she'd have some assistance in dealing with the other women that would no doubt come along during her life. Sansa would need to learn the rules, and learn the boundaries, if she stuck to those rules and boundaries, than the girl may get her wish, and the chance to enjoy intimacy with the Dark Lord.

"Have you done it before?" Lilith asked, earning a look from Sansa.

"Done what?" Sansa asked, confused.

"Have you lain with anyone before?" Lilith clarified, her question quiet so as not to alert others in the hall as to what they were discussing.

Again, Sansa blushed and her gaze dropped to the table.

"No, my lady." Sansa muttered quietly.

"Well then, perhaps we should discuss what you should expect. Come." Lilith rose to her feet, offering a hand to Sansa who nervously took it.

"Don't be nervous, Sansa. I'll show you everything you need to know." Lilith expressed as she guided her along, teasingly chatting with the girl over the course of the morning, what she might expect in the bedroom. While Sansa remained mostly quiet throughout it, she couldn't help a few quiet squeaks when Lilith expressed in detail certain facets of Aegon's 'anatomy' that she hadn't been aware of.

Lilith took pleasure in teasing the young woman, though Sansa did seem to lighten up as the morning went on. Past midday and the two found their way back to the Great Hall where it was time to hold court.

Here is where Lilith began to make a few plays at securing greater loyalty from the allies they'd gathered.

"Sandor Clegane." Lilith commanded, calling forth the mighty warrior.

Slowly, uncertainly, Sandor emerged from the crowd, taking a knee before the high table.

"Clegane, acting in King Aegon's stead, I am naming you lord of Clegane's Keep. The false knight, Gregor Clegane is hereby denounced, and stripped of all titles and lands. I am giving you five hundred soldiers, ride out to your home and spring the wretch from the keep that now rightfully belongs to you. The Mountain is the last remaining holdout in support of Tywin Lannister here in the Westerlands. I see it as only fitting that you deal with him. Bring him to justice, in whatever manner you see fit. I ask that you return with his body, dead or alive, so that the King may look upon the face of the man who aided in murdering his half-siblings and the princess Elia Martell, before he is forever cast aside." Lilith commanded, earning a strong nod from Sandor as a hateful fire ignited in his eyes. The chance to murder his older brother without anyone complaining, that was to good an opportunity to pass up.

A roar of approval went up from the crowd with several lords offering their assistance or that of their soldiers to see the Mountain finally brought down.

"Ride out as soon as you are able, and see that filth scrubbed from these lands." Lilith finished her command, again earning a nod from the Hound as he rose to his feet and returned to the crowd.

"Lord Stark…" Lilith continued, turning her gaze to Aegon's cousin who sat beside her on the high table.

"My lady?" Robb responded.

"I have a gift for you, and for house Stark." Lilith began, motioning towards an orc who quickly stepped forward carrying something long, wrapped in cloth. The orc unfolded the cloth and tucked it away, revealing a sheathed sword. He brought it up to the high table and set it before Robb before offering a bow and retreating back down towards the crowd.

"I understand when Lord Eddard was captured in King's Landing he held your family's ancestral Valyrian Steel Greatsword, Ice, I believe it was called. While there is little I can do to mend the loss of your beloved father, I can swear to you that your family's heirloom shall be returned to you the moment it is recovered. In the meantime, I offer house Stark a gift, in the hopes that it may be used to protect your kin, your kingdom, and your king, in the harsh days to come. May this sword be a symbol of House Stark's resilience and strength." Lilith said to him, gesturing to the blade and offering a nod and a gentle smile.

Robb hesitated for a moment, taking in her words before rising to his feet and picking up the blade.

The first thing Robb noted about the blade was that it was a longsword, and it felt exceptionally light. His ran his eyes across the scabbard, formed of blackened wood with an intricate silver locket that depicted the sigil of house Stark. On the end was a similar silver chape. His eyes than traveled across the hilt. The grip was dark, matching the color of the scabbard, the pommel was rounded and formed of a darkened grey metal. The crossguard was similarly formed out of a dark grey metal, and took the form of two wolf heads arching towards the blade. The detail was excellent and precise, the blade itself seemed almost new.

Drawing the sword, Robb let out a breath as his eyes ran along the blade, and the smoky ripple pattern that extended throughout it's length

"Valyrian Steel?" Robb questioned, gazing towards Lilith.

"This sword has no history, no past. The blade itself was forged nearly two hundred years ago, but it has never seen use. The finer details such as the hilt, crossguard, and scabbard were done recently." Lilith responded, earning surprise from all those that had heard her.

"Two hundred years ago? Your craftsmen know how to reforge Valyrian Steel?" Robb asked.

"Reforge. Smelt it. The secrets of Old Valyria are well known to me. As some may have heard, I have been around for a while." Lilith answered with a smirk.

Robb's eyes widened at that and returned to the blade. This sword was freshly crafted. Formed of Valyrian Steel, this was without a doubt the newest Valyrian Steel sword that Westeros had received.

Many in the crowd began to whisper, amazed at the sight of such a rare spectacle as Valyrian Steel. Even with their current army at Casterly Rock, the number of Valyrian Steel swords present, numbered at less than half a dozen.

To see a new one, and to hear that Lilith knew how to forge Valyrian Steel, sent many to audible discussion. The prospect of one day earning such a mighty weapon and symbol of power, ignited ambition within the hearts of many lords, knights, and soldiers.

"Thank you, my lady. House Stark accepts your gift, and the hope it provides. With this blade, I will see my father avenged, and my brother on the throne that rightfully belongs to him!" Robb declared, holding the sword aloft and earning a cheer from the crowd at his words.

"May it serve you well, Lord Robb, and may it always find it's way into the hands of a champion of House Stark, with the strength to wield it. Born of the secrets of Old Valyria, let this blade forge a new kingdom of greatness, and let those with the strength to wield it, forge a great future for the North. One day, we will see Ice join it, but until that day, let this blade hasten the way." Lilith offered, earning a resolute nod from Robb as he ran his eyes over the sword once more, before sheathing it.

"A wondrous gift my lady, I'm sure the moment my colleagues at the citadel learn of your knowledge in the forging of Valyrian Steel, they'll be clamoring for information." Maester Aemon noted from nearby with a dry chuckle.

"I do look forward to educating them. Yet the giving of gifts has not yet concluded." Lilith responded to him earning a curious look from the maester.

"Lord Tully…" Lilith turned her gaze towards the Lord of the Riverlands who sat on her opposite side from Robb, he was in the middle of a drink, pausing to glance at her, startled by her sudden address.

"House Tully has proven a formidable ally, and your loyalty to family is to be greatly admired. The Riverlands have suffered greatly in this war, yet through it all, you have remained unshakable in your loyalty to house Stark and then to house Targaryen. I am certain my beloved King Aegon would wholeheartedly agree that such devotion and courage, deserves to be rewarded." Lilith offered, again motioning towards an orc in the crowd who approached carrying a blade. He set the sword on the table before Lord Tully and offered a quick bow before retreating.

Edmure sat in stunned silence for several long moments before reaching out for the sword.

It was also a longsword, it's sheath was colored red and blue, the colors of the Tully family sigil. It had a black grip, with a flat round pommel, on either side of the pommel was a carved trout. The cross-guard was straight and round, the ends flaring out a bit. Drawing the sword from it's sheath, he found it to also be forged from Valyrian Steel, and etched within the fuller of the blade, near to the cross-guard were the Tully house words, 'Family, Duty, Honor'.

Edmure stared in awe at the blade, taking a moment to show the blade to his uncle, the Blackfish. The blade itself was absolutely stunning, similar to Robb's.

"My lady… I don't know what to say." Edmure began, turning his gaze towards her.

"You needn't say anything Lord Edmure. Continue pressing forward, as you have been, and use this sword to honor your family's words. Know that I am grateful for your service, as is your king." Lilith expressed, earning a resolute nod from Edmure as he sheathed the blade.

Again a cheer rose up from the crowd, this time led strongly by the Riverlords. Seeing as how this was the first Valyrian Steel blade to find it's way into house Tully, it was definitely a moment to be celebrated, and one to be committed to memory.

Lilith smiled down at the crowd, allowing the cheers to carry on for several long moments. The giving of gifts had always been an easy way of earning trust and loyalty from one's followers, but it was when the gifts meant something deeper that they truly inspired devotion. These Valyrian Steel swords meant a great deal to the people of Westeros, so the giving of one as a gift held far greater value than the enchanted blade would normally hold.

Court continued from there with some asking where King Aegon had gone, since he obviously wasn't at court, but Lilith simply brushed aside their concerns, saying that he was attending important business and he'd be back in a few days.

The day went by rather quietly with Lilith spending the rest of the day down at Lannisport repairing the damage done to the walls of the city using her magic. It was quite the sight to see, pieces of wall lifting into place and combining with other pieces. Those near enough to observe were left speechless as Lilith went about the process, simply filling her time.

At the end of the day she returned to Casterly Rock, and stood atop the main keep, her eyes set firmly on the west, and the sunset sea. The way the sun dropped below the horizon and lit the sky with fiery oranges and reds, it was truly a marvelous sight. Despite the near constant cloud cover, the few moments before sunset did offer quite the beautiful showing. All too soon however, it was over and darkness would settle across the land.

As humans began to settle in for the night and find some sleep, the orcs, goblins, and uruks would become more active at night. The sounds of their labors filling the air.

Vast tribes were hard at work within the interior of Casterly Rock, mining and digging, harvesting what resources there were. After a few short days of investigations, it became apparent to those within the mines that the Lannisters had very nearly drained the resources of the mines beneath Casterly Rock.

Most of the veins that remained were sparse and shallow, most likely kept for show. No doubt new tunnels would need to be dug in search of more ore deposits. It ultimately didn't matter, the gold would have been beneficial but it was not needed. The mines themselves would still serve as a decent location from which to spawn more orcs from.

From atop Casterly Rock, Lilith was able to look down at the shipyards of Lannisport where the very first sections of Aegon's new warships were just starting to be set out. These ships would far surpass what currently sailed on the seas and would ensure their dominance on the ocean. The thought brought a smile to Lilith's face, Aegon always did have a far more technical mind than she did. When it came to his devices, he favored objects in his creativity, whereas Lilith favored beasts.

If Aegon's warships would rule the seas, than she would have to think of some sort of beast to compliment them.

For an hour or so she gazed out over the ocean, pondering ideas. Finally, an interesting one settled into her mind and she set to work preparing all that she would need for it.

The first thing she did was set some of the orcs and men to the task of constructing an enclosed space within the cavern beneath Casterly Rock, where a small port resided. A portion of the cavern was to be sequestered off using wood, stone, metal, and rope. What Lilith intended with this construction was unknown to the builders, but they carried out their commanded task, regardless.

As the builders set to work planning out the construction of Lilith's requested sanctuary, Lilith herself prepared a cursed ritual to draw in one of the fabled beasts that swam in the waters around Westeros. She would need to draw one of these beasts in and capture it, first and foremost. Once that was done, she could move onto the next phase of her plan.

Come nightfall, Lilith strolled down into the dungeons where the captured Lannister prisoners were held en masse. She would select one, healthy and fit, and have orcs drag him out of the cell and then take him down to the cavern beneath the Rock, where he was set on a small boat and rowed out into the ocean.

It would take about an hour or so to get far enough from shore, and once there, Lilith would cut the man's throat and dump his body into the ocean. As he sank beneath the waves, she would whisper foul spells and curses, as the water was died red with blood.

A few moments would pass, and then she would order the orcs to row them back to Casterly Rock.

This would be the first night of many to come. It may take days, or even weeks, but Lilith would draw forth a great beast from the seas, and use her magics to tame the monster. Once it was hers, she would set about using it as a breeder for something far more powerful.

For now she needed to wait, but the Dark Lady was patient, in time, the world would know of her true power. That was ultimately what mattered. She could wait, and fill her time until then. With her tasks done for the day, Lilith would retire for the night. Another quiet lonely night, without her dearest Aegon. She wondered when he would return, and if his plans in Middle-Earth had worked as anticipated.

Whatever the answer, she hoped for a speedy return. Until then, dreams would have to suffice.

The next day Lilith awoke and set about a new set of tasks. She ventured down into Lannisport and located an orc overseer that was keeping an eye on prisoner cages, where a majority of the Lannisport garrison was kept, most of them simply low ranking soldiers, all of the officers, knights, and high-borns had been taken up to the castle.

Aside from manual labor, these particular prisoners mostly spent their time in pens.

"My Lady, to what do we owe your magnificent presence amongst these lowly sods?" The overseer asked dropping to a knee and bowing when he noticed her.

"I've come to see these prisoners dealt with in an organized manner. I'm tired of having these pens present such an eyesore." Lilith responded as her eyes ran over the disheveled, dirty, and tired soldiers.

"How would you have us deal with them, my lady?" The overseer asked.

"Draw them out and ask them what their skills are. The builders will be set to task repairing the city, the farmers will be sent back to their villages to work the fields, find what they are good at, and set them to the task. This kingdom is now mine, and so are these men, set them loose to perform whatever jobs they know how to do, and get these pens broken down, we can use the space for something else." Lilith commanded, earning a sharp nod from the orc overseer.

"It will be done, my lady. What of the poor saps who have no skills? What do we do with them?" The overseer asked.

"If they have no skills of note, than they will join the ranks of our army. A place in this world, and a meal in their bellies will convince them. Whatever it takes, just get these people out of here, I'm tired of having to care for them." Lilith instructed, again earning a nod as the overseer turned to bark orders at some of his men.

With that done, Lilith ventured to the port to inspect how Aegon's ships were coming along. She didn't expect much progress but, the morale boost from her presence would encourage them to work faster and harder.

Around noon she ended up back at the castle and encountered Sansa again. So she invited the young woman to walk with her so they could continue to chat. Today Sansa was far more open and willing to talk, which was helpful for Lilith to learn more about her. Gaining Sansa as a concubine would help to secure the North, by offering them further ties to the Throne. Securing the North would ensure that a massive buffer existed between Lilith's dark kingdom in the Far North, and the rest of the continent.

So with that in mind, Lilith fully intended to seduce Sansa, and to aid her in that endeavor she used her magic to produce an effect around her, very similar to a Veela's allure. It made Lilith appear more radiant and this effect was directed solely at Sansa. While not as blatantly noticeable as a Veela's natural allure, Lilith's variant was far more effective in manipulating others. She had used this ability to masterful effect in her youth, before being reborn as Melkor. It was an ability she had gained by splicing her own DNA with that of a Veela, and a vampire, back in the days when she was actively performing twisted rituals on herself to increase her power.

As one of the Ainur, and a Valar to boot, she could easily replicate the effect, since she knew how to do it, and wasn't constrained by physical limitations.

She would use this allure to slowly push Sansa into developing an attraction towards her, this would than allow her to manipulate her far more easily. The process was subtle and would take a while to actually begin taking effect on it's own, so Lilith would speed along the process with other forms of magic.

When they had finished their walk and conversation, they parted ways, and when doing so, Lilith gave Sansa a kiss on the lips, one that carried magic through it, triggering the release of certain chemicals that would help facilitate feelings such as adoration, love, attractions, lust, and the like.

Sansa was obviously surprised by the kiss, and stared wide eyed after Lilith as she turned and strolled away. She obviously hadn't expected it, nor was she ready for just how good it felt. Nor how familiar the kiss felt. It was a quick thing, more than a peck on the lips, but less than a full blown kiss, and yet it had felt similar to when she would kiss Aegon.

Those was what filled Sansa's mind most predominantly as Lilith strolled away, and it was a thought that Lilith caught as well, reading the werewolf's mind as she left her.

"_Working your magic as well, my dearest Aegon? Or is it something more?"_ Lilith wondered, as she kept walking. Perhaps Aegon used similar magics to seduce Sansa, or perhaps the familiarity that Sansa felt was more akin to how they both kissed. Despite how much time had passed, and despite their many differences, they were still twins, and did things in similar ways. Kissing had always been one of those things.

If that was what Sansa had noticed, than she was far more perceptive than Lilith had first realized. The Lord of Darkness wasn't certain, but for now, she would keep playing her games with the werewolf, and have fun while she did it.

"My lady…!" Came the call from maester Aemon, as well as Casterly Rock's resident maester, both of whom were approaching her.

She turned her gaze towards them and found the Rock's maester holding up a sealed scroll, that looked to have been recently delivered via raven.

"What is it?" Lilith inquired as they reached her.

"A Message, my lady. Barring the sigil of house Tyrell." Maester Aemon responded.

Lilith took the sealed scroll and ran her eyes over it for a moment. She then broke the seal and read it's contents.

A quiet moment passed before her gaze flickered back up to the maesters.

"Gather Lord Robb and Lord Edmure." Lilith instructed, "Tell them to meet me in the war room, you come as well."

Both men nodded and bowed before turning to head off.

A few long minutes had passed by before the two lords, and the two maesters, entered into the war room.

"My lady." Both lords greeted her.

"In just over a fortnight, a Tyrell army will arrive at Bitterbridge from both sides. From what I can tell, the Queen of Thorns will be among them along with Lord Mace Tyrell. The Tyrells wish to discuss an alliance, and have asked that we forgo attacking their forces that are marching on Bitterbridge. Their forces will not attack the crossing, and are only headed their to give the appearance that the Tyrells are still firmly sided with House Lannister." Lilith explained to the two men, tossing the parchment across the war table where it landed before Lord Edmure.

Edmure shared a glance with Robb before picking up the scroll and reading it's contents, he then passed it to Robb who did the same.

"You believe this is a trap?" Robb asked, setting down the parchment and locking eyes with Lilith.

"I don't know, perhaps, but then again, we are set to march on their kingdom next. Perhaps they are desperate." Lilith answered honestly.

"If House Tyrell sides with us and breaks their alliance with House Lannister, it'll open an avenue to Dorne that'll allow us to easily court the Dornish Prince, and allow us the chance to strike out at Stannis in the Stormlands before marching on King's Landing." Edmure noted aloud as he stared down at a map of Westeros on the table.

"They have an army marching on Bitterbridge, we should definitely warn the Iron Titan, that the Tyrells are on the march. Beyond that though, if the Tyrell army stands down and does not attack the bridge, then perhaps their intentions are genuine. A large portion of the Tyrell army is locked in the Crownlands, with this note, we know they've raised another force in the Reach that'll also be at Bitterbridge. They know our next target is Highgarden. They either hold out with Tywin Lannister or try to negotiate a way to survive this." Robb surmised.

"Well than, if the Queen of Thorns wishes to bargain, then we'll hear what she has to say. They're coming to us by land so it wont be overly difficult to devastate their armies with dragon fire, if they choose to attack. If they submit than their kingdom will be spared." Lilith stated after a moment of thought.

"I wonder what the price will be for such an easy time?" Edmure wondered aloud.

"I wouldn't expect it to be too steep. They are severing their ties to the Lannister's by doing this. If they cannot forge an alliance with us, than they're still in danger, just far more than before because they've lost their only ally. No, they're coming to us because they're desperate. House Tyrell owes it's power to the Targaryens. They don't want to go the way of House Gardener." Robb responded, Lilith offering a quiet hum of agreement with his logic.

"Once Aegon returns, I will share this information with him, and see what he thinks. We may no longer need our plans in the Reach, if everything works out." Lilith stated, earning nods from the two lords.

If the Tyrells submitted without a fight, that would free up a massive amount of resources that would have been lost, taking the Reach. Dorne was very likely to side with them, so that left the rebel king Stannis, and the bastard King Joffrey. Once they were dealt with, only the Eyrie would remain, and they would most likely submit once their was no other choice, so the continent would be secure.

If the Tyrells were smart and sided with them, than things would become far easier as they continued. Time would tell though. For now, it was best to be on guard, and cautious.

Tywin Lannister was not to be underestimated, if the stories of his history were anything to go by.

**-Two days later, Tantibus Arcis-**

An unnatural and guttural scream echoed out from somewhere nearby, startling the elf Tauriel awake. Her whole body jolted as she shot upright at the sound of the scream.

Her eyes flickered around the room she was in, taking in unfamiliar surroundings.

She was in a dark room, the walls were made of stone and the floors a darkened wood. A small barred window was shuttered on one side of the room, and standing like sentinels in all four corners of the room were corpse-like statues that were only dimly visible via candlelight and the dim glow that eked through the closed window. The sight of the figures immediately set her on edge as she took note of their eyes. They stood almost completely motionless, save for the gentle fluttering of fabric or strands of hair. They could be easily mistaken for grotesque statues if not for their eyes. Shining icy blue eyes that stared in at her, unblinking, and undeterred.

Slowly Tauriel lowered her gaze to her body, her eyes widening slightly as she found all of her original gear and outfit to be missing, and in their place, a long black gown. This gown was as dark as night with long sleeves that ran down to her wrists, and the gown itself dropped to her ankles. She felt warm in the gown, which immediately tipped her off that it wasn't of natural make. It retained her body heat despite that fact that it was very nearly translucent. It was soft, as if made from silk, and if not for the warmth that it provided she would have thought herself naked, as the gown itself felt like little more than a gentle breeze on the skin.

Her gaze caught sight of her fingernails and she took note of how clean they were. She had spent many days out in the wilderness and had recently come from battle, there was no way her hands should be so clean.

A terrifying and disturbing thought came to mind as her hand brushed against her forehead where she had received a decent cut during the battle. She felt no blood, and the cut itself was already far along in healing.

Her hair was soft, freshly cleaned, and her flesh carried a delightful scent, one that when focused on, caused her skin to tingle, almost as if it were an aphrodisiac. She shook her head and tried to focus on the last thing she could remember.

Where was she? How had she gotten here? What happened in the battle? The first thing that came rushing back, Kili, the dwarf that had fancied her, the one she had felt the stirrings of affection for in return, he had died. She remembered cradling his body and crying and then… nothing.

She tried her hardest to remember what happened afterwards but all that came from it was an overwhelming sadness and a feeling of loss.

A few stay tears fell from her cheeks as her eyes drifted to one of the corpse-like statues staring back at her.

Seeing it, she took in a deep breath, and wiped the tears from her eyes. Now was not the time. She had to figure out where she was, and what was going on.

She began to slide across the bed, removing herself from beneath the thick fur blanket that had been covering her. It wasn't until she freed her legs and began moving, her dress slightly rising along them, that she truly felt the cold.

It was enough to cause her to pause, her hands didn't feel overly cold but they had been pressed close to her body which was kept warmed by the strange cloth that she had been clothed with. But once she allowed a bit of her skin to be exposed, she felt how truly cold the room was.

It was a chill that seemed greatly unnatural. Elves were highly resistant to the cold, so the fact that this chill affected her so meant that it had to be wintry even within the confines of this dark room.

She slowly continued, pulling herself out of bed and placing her bare feet on the cold wooden floors. It was as she stood that she can to a startling realization, the corpses were still staring at her. Their movements had been almost imperceptible, but she knew they had moved.

She focused her gaze on one, it's tattered fur clothes, dark rotted flesh, and brilliant blue eyes. In it's hand it held an axe, worn and bronze by the look of it. The sight of the weapon sealed it for her. These were no mere statues. They weren't macabre decorations of some vicious orc, these things were animate, and they were standing guard over her.

She stood without moving at the end of the bed for nearly a full minute before turning towards the shuttered window. She slowly made her way over to it, keeping the nearest corpse in her periphery the entire time. It slowly turned it's head to watch her, but did not move or react beyond that.

She reached the window, feeling the cold intensify to the point where it actually caused her to shudder. She unlatched the shutters and pulled them back, revealing a metal barred window that overlooked a sight that she was not ready for.

Before her stood a massive fortress extending far off into the distance. Towering walls, blackened towers, and the movement of thousands filled her gaze. Fire and smoke rose from within the fortress and illuminated the night sky. Beyond the distant outer walls, Tauriel could make out an expanse of snow covered hills and icy glaciers. Her breath now visibly filled her view and the raw and bitter cold made perfect sense to her. The sky was dotted by a handful of clouds but more importantly it was lit up by the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.

Teal color danced in the heavens, drifting softly across the night sky in literal waves. Tauriel stared up at the walls of color as they glided overhead as far as the eye could see. Despite not knowing where she was or who had taken her, this sight very nearly brought her to tears it was so beautiful.

It was many minutes before the bitter cold started to cause her lips to begin cracking and she thus had to shutter the window and take a few steps back.

She stood quietly for several long moments before returning to the bed, taking the blanket and wrapping it around herself to repel the cold. As noted, elves had a natural resistance to the cold. A cool night didn't bother them, and a cold winter could be easily ignored, even as frost built upon the skin. This cold though must have been truly bitter to have chilled her so.

She pondered this for several long moments, contemplating how she was affected by the cold and what it meant for her escape attempt. The instant her thoughts turned towards escape, a minor irritation began to spread around her neck. It was so weak that at first it felt masked by the cold, so she didn't immediately take notice of it and continued with her thoughts.

The gown she was wearing insulated her quite well despite how thin it was. Even standing before the open window it was her hands, feet, and face that felt the sting of the cold, her body felt fine, warm even.

That made the cloth useful to her, but she'd still need something to cover her hands, feet, and face. Heavier clothes also wouldn't hurt as this cloth was no doubt very frail with how thin it was, and it most likely wouldn't survive a trek through the wilderness so she'd definitely need more. A worrisome thought did strike her as she pondered this. Not only had someone stolen her from the battlefield, but they'd also taken her clothes and gear, and bathed her. This gown was all she wore, no smallclothes, or any other accessories.

It left her feeling vulnerable, and a bit disturbed at having someone handle her body in such a manner despite being asleep. She had to guess that in the light of day, it wouldn't be hard for someone to see her body beneath the thin fabric. It was pitch black which would help a bit, but any light source would easily pass through it, meaning her frame would appear clear as day. Why she was dressed in such a revealing and ridiculous garb, she did not know, but whoever had done it would pay.

The moment that thought passed through her head, the irritation around her neck, grew sharply into a stabbing pain that caused her to let out a yelp and jolt, her hands immediately flying to her throat, with the thought that she had just been pierced by a blade.

Pain spread into her hands as they felt warm metal around her neck. The pain was minor and seemed to quickly fade, allowing her to explore the strange accessory that she hadn't noticed before.

Her fingers traced it, feeling how it encircled her neck like a collar. A thin chain of metal, inset with some kind of stones that she couldn't see. Her hands traced it once more searching for a latch to remove it. As that thought passed into her mind, the irritation was felt again, though this time, she also felt it in her fingers.

This metal collar was somehow reading her mind and punishing her, she quickly realized. Panic began to set in as she quickly searched the collar for a release to remove it, but nothing stood out to her, and the itching irritation of the collar was growing more intense the longer she searched. Her frustrations growing she squeezed her fingers beneath the collar and began to pull, intent on ripping it off.

A scream ripped out of her lips as pain surged through her neck and fingers. Everywhere the metal touched, felt this same pain like a burning blade being jammed into flesh.

Tauriel fell back onto the beck kicking and struggling with all her might to fight through the pain, but it was no use. The collar wouldn't give and the pain became to overwhelming and she was forced to release it. The moment she let go the pain stopped, but the irritation remained.

She now knew without a doubt, that the collar was reading her mind.

She lay on the bed, gasping and trembling from the pain. It took nearly three full minutes before she could focus enough to sit up. The collar offered no give when she tried to remove it. It held firm despite how thin it was. Powerful magics were involved in it's constructions she knew, but knowing this did nothing to help her situation. She wasn't overly knowledgeable in the ways of magic, she was more a hunter and a fighter, than any sort of mystic.

Taking a deep breath, she went through what she knew. She was currently being held prisoner by someone, who appeared to have a large army at their back. Whoever it was had placed her in a collar that read her thoughts. If she thought of escaping, removing the collar, or punishing the one who had put it on her, the collar would cause her immense pain. So much pain, in fact, that it would immediately stop her from any coherent actions. She was effectively trapped, for the moment.

Continuing to ponder her situation, she was broken from her thoughts by the sound of a door being unlocked. She bolted upright and knelt on the bed, watching as the door opened and a shadowed figure drifted into the room. It was a man, draped in tattered black robes. His skin was incredibly dark, in a way she had never seen before. It seemed almost to be a grayish brown in color, and was heavily marked with black tattoos. He wore little more than a long set of tattered black robes, with a hood covering his bald head. His face was similarly marked with intricate tattoos, and his irises were dark, nearly black in the poor lighting.

"Come… the dark lord summons thee." He spoke in a deep baritone.

Tauriel tensed at his words. '_The dark lord? That's impossible, Sauron is gone, diminished. That simply isn't possible.'_ Tauriel thought to herself as she kept her gaze locked on the new arrival.

After a moment of silence he made a motion with his hand, and the four undead sentinels in the room began to advance on her.

She quickly did as asked, not wanting to be manhandled by the undead creatures, rising from the bed, and slowly crossing the room, glaring heavily at her captor all the while.

"Follow me." The man commanded, turning and guiding her out of the chamber.

She followed behind him, her own steps shadowed by the shambling creatures that acted as her guards.

"Where am I?" She asked as they made their way through cold stone corridors.

"Tantibus Arcis." The man responded.

"_Tantibus Arcis? I've never heard of such a place. Nor of the tongue it's name derives from. Could this be some sort of orcish fortress? I need to know where I am, if I want any chance of…'_ Her thoughts were cut off by a burning irritation spreading across her neck.

She ground her teeth together angrily as she continued to follow the man.

Deeper and deeper into the fortress they traveled, passing by crowds of laboring dead men, and hordes of orcs, busily training.

The more Tauriel saw, the more her gut sank. Any hope of this massive fortress being undermanned, or partially abandoned, quickly fled from her mind. Orcs, men, the dead, they were everywhere. They passed through twisted halls filled with jeering orcs, goblins, and uruks, who sang foul songs and drank equally foul grog. The smell of the chamber, burned at her nostrils, and those that took notice of her, sent hellish glares in her direction.

She kept close to her guide knowing full well that she would be easily ripped apart by the horde, if she strayed to far.

Further and further down they traveled, passing by dozens of chambers, equally as packed. At some point or another they passed underground, and things became far more twisted and unnatural. Upon the ceiling of the halls, large spiders spun their webs. These spiders ranged in size, some the size of coins, some as a large as dogs. Many of these spiders were covered in thick hairs, and were unlike other spiders Tauriel had seen before. Further down and more nightmares began to reveal themselves.

Haunting voices began to fill the air, their source was unknown. Quiet whispers that seemed to follow them, and the occasional bloodcurdling scream that caused Tauriel to jump. All of it was unnatural and set her on edge. The further they traveled the colder it got.

At some point, Tauriel wrapped her arms around herself, tucking her hands under her armpits to try and keep them warm. They continued to pass by chambers, though many of these were sparsely populated or even appeared to be empty. At one, Tauriel, glanced inside and saw an orc, with sunken and mummified flesh. This orc had glowing blue eyes and long white hair. It was surrounded by a sea of corpses, nearly two hundred dead men in varying stages of decomposition that stood around it.

She didn't linger for long, not wanting to know what the strange orc was.

At some point, they passed into a large open hall. The room was empty, save for three individuals in the midst of some sort of ritual. Tauriel couldn't help but come to a halt as she spotted the goings-on of the chamber.

Two orcs and a man, stood around a twisting blue orb of light. This orb was large, nearly ten feet across, and within it, unnatural movements could be seen. A pale yellow mass of translucent material twisted and flowed in on itself within the orb of light. The three sorcerers were uttering twisted words of power, performing spells, their arms raised and their heads bowed in deep concentration.

The entity within the orb continued to twist and churn before suddenly reacting. Twin lights that could only be described as eyes came together, locking gazes with Tauriel.

Tauriel felt herself step back in surprise as the yellowish goop suddenly stared at her. As she stared at it, she felt an overwhelming sense of calm fill her mind. A gentle and peaceful calm that seemingly filled her with warmth. She felt herself remembering her childhood, recalling memories of her distant past.

Confusion settled into her mind as the images played before her, why was she so calm? What was this warm feeling? Why was she suddenly so nostalgic?

Images of her parents began to fill her mind, and a sinking feeling filled her gut. It was a feeling born from years as a huntress, years of surviving out in the wilds, she felt a presence nearby, a threatening presence, and it was there with her, inside of her mind.

Panic began to set in as she realized something was watching these memories, reading her thoughts, taking in her life, forcing her to relive the past. It had to be that thing, the being inside of the sphere of light. It was in her mind, that had to be it. She had to fight it.

As her internal panic began to grow she felt a numbness overtake her limbs, she was unable to move and could only stare back at the creature. She felt more of her memories drawn forward, more of her childhood brought straight up to the surface.

Fear began to overtake her when suddenly a firm grip took hold of her arm and she was pulled away.

A foul curse sprung forth from the lips of her guide as he dragged her away. Something in the Black Speech, an awful sound that burned at her ears, but it did enough to shake her free of the creature's influence.

She was quickly dragged from the chamber, her guide maintaining a death grip on her as she pulled her forward.

"What was that thing?" Tauriel managed to ask.

"Evil from beyond this world." Her guide responded as his grip loosened. Tauriel now walked by his side, keeping her eyes straight ahead. She no longer wanted to know what went on around her, she knew enough, this place was a nightmare.

They passed into another chamber, this one was thankfully filled with orcs and men, they seemed far less excited and joyful than the ones above. These seemed drained, tired, many filled the large chamber, and most were sprawled out, relaxing, it seemed.

They passed to one side of the chamber where two towering trolls resided. They stood on either side of a heavy wooden platform with chains attached to it from the ceiling.

"We are headed down. The Dark Lord has summoned her." Her guide stated to the two, earning a rough growl from one of the trolls as they both turned towards large cranks and grabbed hold of them.

Her guide brought her onto the large platform, and suddenly it began to lower.

As the platform was lowered, a warmth began to fill the air. With the warmth came comfort, but soon even that vanished as the heat grew in intensity the further down they traveled.

Soon the stone walls that guided the platform down gave way, revealing a massive open chamber. Tauriel couldn't help but gasp as her eyes spread out across the expanse of this underground chasm. Heat filled the air, and burning light pushed back the darkness. Other platforms could be seen raising and lowering throughout the chamber, carrying workers or materials up or down.

Throughout the chamber, thousands of workers diligently mined for resources. Raw ore veins surrounded them and seemed to be everywhere. Deep cracks split the ground all across the chamber, and from within, the shining light of magma burned deep below.

When the platform first reached the ground and they stepped off of it, Tauriel couldn't help but hiss at the heat of the ground. It wasn't so hot that it burned, but it was hot enough to startle her.

"Come. We are almost there." Her guide commanded, marching forward.

Not far from their birth, a tunnel resided, guiding them into a lower chamber in the mines.

This chamber was filled with a burning heat and a sea of lava. A single stone platform held suspended over the lava pool, and upon it, stood a man. They approached him, and Tauriel felt her dread grow.

Her eyes began to run over the man's form as they approached. He was tall, not the tallest man she'd ever seen, but above average. He had dark shoulder length hair, his hair was nearly black, from what she could tell. He was lean, and muscular, his skin pale. He was currently without a shirt, wearing only trousers, and his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat.

As they approached he turned his gaze towards them. His eyes caused Tauriel to freeze. Glowing emerald green eyes, alight like flame, stared back at her, a smile that had been on the man's face, morphed into a smirk that caused her skin to tingle.

He was handsome, beautiful in way that men often weren't. He had features of beauty found usually in elves, and yet the light covering of a beard and mustache covered his face, giving him a more rugged appearance. He seemed young, very young. Most likely barely into his twenties from what she could see.

As he turned his emerald gaze towards her, his eyes began to change. The bright emeralds that glowed with brilliance quickly gave way to a hellish flame of orange fire.

Tauriel took a fearful step back, as the man slowly took a step forward, rotating his shoulders as he did.

The orange flame of his eyes filled her with fear as he approached, staring at her.

His gaze made her feel naked, no, it was more than that. His gaze made her feel as if her spirit was on full display. It felt almost like his eyes pierced through flesh and bone, and could see straight into her heart. She felt fully revealed, as if all of her personal feelings, all of her most intimate thoughts and desires, were on full display.

A blink of the eyes was all it took for the feeling to fade. A blink and the hellish inferno of his gaze, gave way to dark gray eyes with violet rings in them. The violet of his eyes was so feint it was almost imperceptible, had she not been so drawn to his gaze, so focused on his eyes, she could have easily missed that trait. With the fiery glow of his eyes removed, the piercing quality of his gaze seemed to diminish, but it did not vanish completely. His gaze was still intense, and filled with an analytical quality that left her feeling bare.

"Hello. I must say, you are quite lovely." The man offered, his voice calm, and edged with an accent she couldn't quite place.

"Who-who are you? Why have you taken me prisoner?" Tauriel demanded as the man stopped in his approach standing roughly ten feet before her.

"In these lands I am known as Aegon, of house Targaryen. Rightful king of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. You… may know me better by another name." He answered with a cruel smile. Tauriel felt her heart sink as she recalled what her guide had called him.

She took a fearful step back, causing the Dark Lord's smirk to grow.

"Your people had many names for me, Gorthaur the Cruel, the Enemy, the Dark Power, the Necromancer of Dol Guldur, the Nameless Enemy. I am the Dark Lord Sauron, High-Lord of Mordor, Lord of Barad-Dûr, Lord of the Earth, and Lord of the Rings. I welcome you to my domain, and my service." Sauron declared, as Tauriel backed away further, falling to the ground as she did.

Sauron stepped towards her as she tried to back away, only for her to run into the legs of the corpses that had still been following them.

"What is your name, my dear?" Sauron inquired.

Tauriel remained silent, though it quickly became apparent that, that would do her no good. A stabbing pain lanced through her neck and she let out a scream of pain, tears forming in her eyes.

"What is your name?" Sauron asked again.

"T-Tauriel!" She shrieked, and the pain stopped.

"Tauriel? How lovely. Welcome to my service Tauriel. It has been so long since I've had a new elf among my ranks. I would advise against disobeying. As I'm sure you've figured out, any attempt to escape, retaliate, or break from my commands, will be met with severe punishment." Sauron responded.

"Yo-you will never get anything from me. I would sooner die than reveal anything about my people!" Tauriel snapped at him, mustering all of her courage.

"Reveal anything? You know something of importance? Interesting…" Sauron responded, raising an eyebrow at her.

Tauriel stared back uncertain and confused.

"I can tell you're under an assumption that just isn't true. I don't know who you are, and I didn't know you had anything useful to offer to me. Beyond your body. I took you for the sole purpose of breaking you and turning you into a body slave for my beloved." Sauron explained as he knelt in front of her.

Tauriel stared at him, horror, confusion, and fear filling her gaze.

"That's right… you will be body slave to my beloved. You will serve her, pleasure her, and protect her. You will do so willingly, because if you refuse…" Aegon rose to his feet and made a motion with his hand. Tauriel's eyes went wide as she felt her body begin to move against her will. She slowly rose to her feet, unable to stop herself, she stepped towards the Dark Lord, and reached out to him, cradling his face in her hands.

He smiled, a genuinely charming smile and leaned down towards her. No matter how hard she fought, she could do nothing to stop her body from reacting. It was like she had simply been removed from control, and was merely an observer.

His lips brushed with hers in a gentle and almost loving kiss. She had never kissed anyone like this before, so the feeling was completely foreign to her. She felt one of his hands circle around to the small of her back and press her body against his as the kiss deepened.

It continued for several long moments before he pulled back, and she suddenly felt control return to her. She stumbled back and fell to the ground again, staring up at him in horror.

"Obey, and you will remain in control. Obey and my dearest Lilith may find you interesting enough to keep. Refuse, and I will strip you of control. We will use you, and when we are done, you will be killed. Now you know the price of refusal, so… will you serve me?" Sauron said to her, extending his hand to her.

Tauriel stared up at him, horror reflected on her face. Already she was envisioning all of the terrible things he could do to her, and that he could make her do.

She had no idea how he controlled her so easily, perhaps it was the collar she now wore, but regardless, he had a way to fully manipulate her body, and force her into becoming a passenger in her own life. Though it only lasted for a few seconds, it was more terrible than any pain she had ever felt. To simply be an observer while your body reacted according to another person's will, it was truly awful. And what made it worse was that he knew nothing about her. He did not know she was a skilled fighter, or an elven guard captain. He had probably guessed that she had some fighting skills since he had collected her from the battlefield, but beyond that, he did not know what she was capable of.

Horrible thoughts spilled into her mind, he had forced her to kiss him, what more could he force her to do? Not only could he use her body as he saw fit, but also her skills, what he knew of them. She was a skilled fighter, and he could use her to hunt, kill, and slaughter her fellows, her own people.

If she refused, than she was lost. He would assume command of her body and do whatever he saw fit with her. She had only one choice, it was the only chance at any sort of salvation no matter how small or unlikely.

Slowly, she reached out, placing her hand in his.

"Smart woman." Sauron responded as he pulled her to her feet.

"What is thy will my master?" Tauriel muttered, quietly.

"You will serve as servant and slave to my beloved Lilith. You will serve her dutifully, in all things she requires of you. That is my will." Sauron responded, earning a solemn nod from Tauriel, her spirit worn down to almost nothing.

Sauron offered her a chuckle before releasing her hand and taking a few steps away from her. He held something aloft in one of his hands, something cradled in his fingers. Tauriel slowly eyed the object, and took note that it was a simple golden ring.

"My work is finished. The ring has been adjusted. It's ties to the Three Elven Rings of Power has been blocked for the moment. So long as the block is in place, I cannot manipulate the Three, but they will also not be able to sense, the One." Sauron said aloud, turning his eyes towards Tauriel.

She stared back in confusion, not quite understanding him.

"How old are you, Tauriel?" Sauron inquired, sensing her confusion.

"Five-hundred-and-eighty-seven, my lord." Tauriel replied meekly.

"Ah, a young elf. Interesting. So the battle of Erebor was the first major conflict between my forces and your kin, that you've had the pleasure of partaking in?" Sauron surmised, earning a nod from Tauriel.

"Well then, you should know, that your kin survived the battle, thanks to the Eagles." Sauron offered to her, hope filling her gaze for a moment.

"Yes, they survived, and my forces retreated. The Mountain is now in the hands of the dwarves. And all I have to show for my troubles. Is a lowly little elf, the Arkenstone, and a dragon…" Sauron added, causing fear to swiftly return to her.

"Oh… and one other, rather important boon… my ring." Sauron expressed, turning his eyes back to his ring.

Tauriel stared at him for a moment, before panicked realization filled her eyes.

A moment of bravery filled her, the Dark Lord's ring, the One Ring, he had it! She had to do something, had to stop him somehow! The though didn't last for more than a moment before she let out a scream of pain and collapsed to her knees, a stabbing pain ripping into her throat.

"Well done Tauriel, that's a fighter's spirit!" Sauron clapped, smiling down at her, as she gasped in pain and threw a fearful and tormented look at him.

Sauron's grin was hellish, the excitement in his eyes filled the young elf with terror and a soul-crushing dread. Slowly, deliberately, taking joy in her suffering, he placed the One Ring upon his finger.

An explosion of power surged into him as he felt his old power return to him.

Raw magical strength raced through him, his veins ignited in flames and the ground began to shake.

In a nearby cave, the Balrog Khulvar sensed the surge in Sauron's power, and let out a roar of triumph, a demonic chuckle filling the air soon afterwards.

In another fiery chamber, Lilith's dragons stirred, awakening and letting our shrieks and growls, feeling the Dark Lord's power swell to monstrous levels.

Sauron's eyes began to glow with hellish fire, as the air around him began to boil. His servants nearby, dropped to the ground, kowtowing before his might.

Tauriel lay cradled on her side, shielding herself from the sight of the Dark Lord.

Flames began to erupt around Sauron, and a demonic chuckle filled the air.

Nearby, the dark creatures of Tantibus Arcis began to roar and cheer as they felt the power of the Dark Lord tear up through the very foundations of the citadel.

**-At Casterly Rock, the same time-**

Lilith shot awake, a familiar power flooding her senses. She quickly apparated atop the main keep, her gaze turned towards the North. "Sauron? Such power…!"

Lilith could feel the monstrous strength of her beloved. Why though was he releasing such torrents of strength? Had the Battle to take the Lonely Mountain ended in failure? Was this his fury, she was feeling? It didn't seem that way, the explosion of power wasn't directed, it was simply expanding, like a burst of excitement.

It was obvious that Aegon had returned from Arda, but what was keeping him from returning here? She hoped he would come back soon, less she lose her patience and go north to figure out what was keeping him.

This power though, it was intense, surprisingly so. He had always stood above the other Maiar, though he rarely gave a showing of such immense power. She could hear his Ringwraths letting out shrieks of glee, and could even sense their own power increasing. Midir was reacting, upon a hill nearby the mighty dragon stare out to the north, flapping his wings and bellowing smoke. Umbra was already in the skies, roaring and breathing green flames, excited as the dragon could be.

Yes, Aegon had definitely returned, and something had happened, something immense.

**-Back at Tantibus Arcis-**

From the pillar of hellish fire that had encapsulated the Dark Lord, a towering figure emerged. Sauron, in all his glory, encased in his armor, his power radiating in fiery waves, now stood before the cowering Silvan Elf.

The intensity of his strength began to grow before suddenly Sauron withdrew his power, drawing it into himself. His form shrunk, and he resumed the shape of a man, his breathing heavy and excited.

"Wow! Now that, was unexpected…" Sauron stated, staring at his ring with reverence.

He held his hand aloft and continued to admire his ring for several long moments before turning his gaze towards Tauriel.

"The time has come to return to my campaign. Prepare Tauriel for flight, I will take her personally. We leave in an hour." Sauron commanded to his servant, who offered a firm nod and moved to pull Tauriel to her feet.

She quickly went with the guide, eager to escape the newly empowered Dark Lord. Sauron now had the One Ring, such a thing spelled disaster for the world.

A short while later, Tauriel was brought to the surface, into a large clearing in the fortress where a deep tunnel underground sat nearby.

The Dark Lord stood waiting there for her, she had been given actual clothes to wear, trousers, a heavy coat, gloves, and boots, all to help keep warm. All warn over her silk gown. When she was delivered to the Dark Lord, he was redressed, wearing dark clothes, and a long cloak. He seemed to be in a spectacular mood, and as she was brought to him, a heavy thumping filled the air as something large moved up out of the nearby tunnel.

Moments passed before a dragon emerged from the tunnel, the long serpentine beast took in it's surroundings as it emerged, taking in a deep breath of air.

"Are you ready to join with our master, great Smaug?" Sauron inquired, identifying the dragon as Tauriel was brought up next to him.

"**Yes. Let us go and join with the great one."** Smaug responded.

"Alright than. I will show you the way, and along the path, I will show you locations of importance so that you will be able to navigate some of these territories. It shouldn't take more than ten hours or so to get there. So let us be off." Aegon informed the dragon, before turning to Tauriel and offering his hand.

Slowly, she took it and he pulled her close to him.

"From this moment forth, you will address me as King Aegon, My King, or Your Grace. You will tell no one that you are a slave, nor will you tell them of my true name. Understood?" She offered a small nod, averting her eyes from him. He stared intently at her, and a burning pain spread through her neck.

"Yes, My King." Tauriel gasped, pain flashing in her eyes, as she internally cursed herself for not refusing.

"Good. Now hold on." Aegon commanded, and he felt her slip her arm around his waist and grab the arm he had wrapped around her.

With a smirk, he took to the skies, flying up into the air, blackened mist wrapping around his body, and Tauriel's.

Tauriel let out a shriek of fear and surprise before quieting, earning a laugh from the Dark Lord.

Smaug was soon in the air following them and they began to fly south, away from the fortress.

For a while, Tauriel clung to Aegon, fearful of falling to her death, but it soon became apparent that it wasn't just the Dark Lord holding her aloft physically, but rather magic that was keeping her in the air with him. So long as he continued with whatever spell he was using, she was in no danger of falling, even if she loosened her grip.

The moment she realized she could pull a bit away from him, she did so. She drifted alongside him, flying quickly through the air. Following nearby was the mighty Smaug, who kept above and just behind them.

Letting her fears slowly fade, Tauriel decided to try and find some comfort in her situation, taking in the landscape seemed like a good place to start.

There was little in sight on the ground at first, snow covered hills, the occasional mountain, or frost covered peek, everything seemed to be encased in ice and covered with snow, it held little beauty to it, but the sky though, that was where Tauriel felt her gaze turn to, to pass the time.

The shifting green aura in the sky was incredible and she felt at peace, staring up at it. Thankfully, the Dark Lord had little to say during this stretch of the trip, so she was allowed the time to take in the beautiful sight and daydream of better times, and of home.

After a while a solid string of mountains came over the horizon, and she felt the Dark Lord gently squeeze her arm, drawing her attention.

"_This is the Northern most stretch of the Frostfangs mountain range. These mountains stretch for miles hundreds of miles south and separate the Far North from the Lands of Always Winter. As we pass over them we will be entering the Far North." _She heard his voice whisper into her mind. She tensed at the intrusion but offered a nod of understanding.

"_So that great fortress rests in the Land of Always Winter, beyond the Far North? Alright then."_ Tauriel devoted that bit of information to memory. She did take note of the fact that she didn't recognize either of those areas. Given the name, the Far North, did that mean she had been taken North of the Lonely Mountain? If so, that meant that they were headed south, back towards it, and most likely, near her homeland. If they kept heading south, eventually they'd come close to the Dark Lord's domain, Mordor.

He spoke of continuing a campaign. What campaign was he speaking of? She hadn't heard any mention of orcish attacks in the south, at least no major or coordinated ones. As far as she was aware, Gondor still held most of Mordor. Was that the campaign he was referring too?

She didn't know, but she kept quiet and watched as the mountains quickly approached. Her only other thought was wondering if he was telepathically communication this info to the dragon as well? He probably was, which was why he had chosen it over shouting over the wind.

Regardless, more time passed, as they flew over the mountains. Soon and endless stretch of snow covered forests filled the world below her. Occasionally she would spot movement below, her elvish eyes picking up orcs and men, laboring together in camps, cutting down trees, building forts and villages.

"_This area is known as the Haunted Forest and it covers most of the Far North."_ She heard whispered into her mind.

"_Haunted Forest?" _Another place Tauriel didn't recognize.

This forest truly was massive, and filled her gaze for quite a while as they continued to fly. Eventually Tauriel got lost in daydreams and was simply thinking to herself when she felt another squeeze of the arm from Aegon. She turned her gaze towards him and he nodded forward.

She turned her eyes towards the horizon and her jaw fell open. Quickly approaching was a towering construct. A wall of gleaming ice that radiated with reflected sunlight like a massive jewel. This wall was hundreds of meters high, and stretched over the horizon in either direction, seemingly splitting the land in two.

"_This is the Wall, built thousands of years of ago, it stretches three hundred miles from the Bay of Seals to the Bay of Ice. It separates the Far North from the lands known as The Gift."_ Aegon whispered into her mind.

Tauriel couldn't help herself as she ran her eyes along The Wall, admiring it's beauty and immense stature. Even Smaug felt his interest in the Wall grow as they drew closer and the tingling of intense magic, filled his senses. There was power contained within this great construction, and that power held strong even after thousands of years.

They passed over The Wall, spotting the massive Nightfort bellow on the southern side. The once abandoned castle, was now alight with movement as orcs busily repaired it and brought it up to working order.

For a while they flew, Aegon only mentioning at one point while they flew that they had left The Gift and were now in the North.

The almost unending snow quickly gave way to rolling hills and quiet moors.

They drifted a bit to the west, with Aegon pointing out the nearby mountain range as the southern end of the Frostfangs.

Soon they were passing over a massive castle that again caused Tauriel's jaw to drop.

"_This is Winterfell, built by my human ancestors over thousands of years. This castle has been around since __the Years of the Trees. It was built by men and giants, long ago, or so the stories say."_ Aegon expressed, earning awe from Tauriel and Smaug. Such an ancient castle, standing for so long was incredible, to say the least, and the castle was truly monstrous in size, it could no doubt withstand an army of countless thousands breaking against it's outer and inner walls.

"_I've never heard of this place either. Where has he taken me."_ Tauriel couldn't help but wonder as they continued south. She did also take note of Aegon's mention of 'human' ancestors. So the Dark Lord had hijacked a royal human line in these lands, no doubt to aid in his conquests. And this was the castle they had built? That did not bode well for her people.

Further south they continued for a while, as the air grew warmer and the foggy cool lands of the North began to give way to warmer wet lands.

Aegon called this land, The Neck, a swampy bog land, that was near impassable accept by a single roadway. The swamps below reminded Tauriel of Mirkwood, and despite the dreary nature of that place, it made her homesick. She'd definitely prefer to be in the spider-infested Mirkwood, than here, with the Dark Lord.

They turned further west, passing over a part of the sea, Ironman's Bay, it was called, and than they came across a castle on a fork in a river, a castle called Riverrun, the capitol of an area called the Rivelands. From there they went further west, passing into the Westerlands, and eventually, a towering castle came over the horizon.

Dread filled Tauriel's heart as two massive dragons flew up to greet them. Both were unique in their own way, different in shape, and both were foremost interested in the Dark Lord, but quickly turned their gazes towards Smaug. The two dragons flew up to Smaug, letting out roars a bathing the Great Dragon in their flames. Smaug returned the gestures, spewing forth a massive wall of flames at both of the two dragons.

"_Great Smaug, may I introduce my familiar, Umbra, and our master's personal steed, Midir." _Aegon offered to the dragon as the three titanic beasts circled one another before Midir and Umbra dove down towards the towering castle, landing just outside it's walls on the hills leading up to it.

Smaug quickly followed as did Aegon and Tauriel, coming to land on a newly carved pathway leading up towards a wooden wall that had been erected at around where the Lion's Mouth, had once stood.

A crude gateway was carved into the wall which soon swung open, as several individuals came rushing out.

Several large winged beasts rose up from the castle and lowered down towards them, landing a good distance around Aegon and Tauriel. Upon the backs of these winged beasts, sat six of the Nine Nazgûl. Tauriel recognized the hooded figures from stories she'd heard, and felt her dread grow.

Many of those on foot who had come out to see what was going on were men or orcs, and they immediately bowed, dropping to a knee at the sight of Aegon.

Aegon noted one of them and quickly approached the man, releasing Tauriel as he did.

"Uncle Benjen!" Aegon greeted as the man rose to his feet. The two men met in a hug, an action that surprised Tauriel and caused her jaw to drop open.

"Have fun on your trip?" Benjen inquired.

"Like you wouldn't believe." Aegon responded with a laugh, earning one from Benjen as well.

Horseback riders soon exited the walls, along with two of the largest wolves that Tauriel had ever seen. One was gray while the other was pure white. The white one trotted right up to the Dark Lord, stopping before him. This wolf was easily as large as a horse. Aegon smiled and ran his hands along the wolf's fur.

"Hello boy, were you good while I was gone?" Aegon asked, causing ghost to lick at his face.

"You've seemed to have made it back in one piece." Came the voice of Robb who had arrived on horseback. He was quick to hop off the horse and offer Aegon a quick bow, before the two met in an embrace.

"My adventures were far dull, just wait till you hear." Aegon offered, still smiling. He turned his from Robb to an interesting sight. A woman, in a black gown, similar to the one Tauriel had been forced into. Though her gown was far thicker and offered far more decency, it did accentuated her frame quite a bit.

This woman was incredibly beautiful and the way Aegon's eyes lit up when he spotted her, it was easy for Tauriel to pinpoint who the Dark Lord's beloved was, and who she was meant to serve.

Aegon approached her and she smiled, holding open her arms for him.

Stepped into her embrace, kissing her as he did.

"Welcome back." Lilith said to him.

"It's good to be back." Aegon replied, reaching up to brush a few stray strands of hair from her face. When he did, Lilith's eyes went wide, and faster than lightning, she snatched his arm, seizing it by the wrist. Her eyes shot to his hand, where she had felt an incredible power, when he had brought it close to her.

Aegon let out a chuckle as Lilith's eyes fell upon the golden band that wrapped around the base of his pointer finger. She stared at it for several long moments, her eyes wide. Slowly she turned her gaze to him.

"I've returned with quite the boons, my love." Aegon said to her, freeing his arm from her grip and cradling her face.

A smirk quickly spread across her lips, as she leaned in and kissed him again.

"Come, there is someone who wishes to see you." Aegon expressed, taking Lilith's hand and guiding her down towards where the towering dragon Smaug waited.

Lilith smiled up at the dragon, her pace quickening as she stepped out of Aegon's grasp and approached the Great Dragon.

"**It truly is you…" **Smaug noted, his eyes wide as he stared down at her.

Lilith stared up at the dragon for several long moments before speaking. "Hello you magnificent beast. The last of my greatest creations in Middle-Earth. It'll be good to have you among my ranks, Great One. I, am Lilith." Lilith greeted the Great Dragon.

"**Lilith? I see. You power is as magnificent as the stories say, my master. I will serve you, and bring fire to this world in your name." **Smaug declared.

"Yes, we will burn away this rampant chaotic world, and bring a new order to reign supreme. It is time you took your rightful place among my ranks. With your might added to my forces, nothing can stop us." Lilith agreed with the dragon, earning a powerful growl from all three of the Great Dragons.

"Go now, mighty Smaug, and explore our conquered territories. When our armies are set to march, I will summon thee for war. Midir will accompany you, there is much of this world to see." Lilith declared, earning a nod from the dragon, as he and Midir took to the skies, intent on doing just that.

Lilith took in a breath, breathing in the scent of smoke, and ash, that accompanied the Great Dragon, she then turned her gaze towards Aegon.

"You have done well my love." Lilith began, but as she did, Aegon's smile fell and he shook his head. He glanced around as more people had now surrounded them, taking in the sight of the new dragon that had accompanied the king's return.

"I do aim to impress." Aegon offered her a hand.

Lilith took it and he turned and began to head towards the castle.

"Come, we have much to discuss. Come Tauriel." Aegon directed, motioning for Tauriel to follow them.

Lilith's eyes caught on the elf as they walked, and a cruel smile spread across her face. Tauriel shuddered but followed close behind.

They quickly returned to the Rock, and held a feast. When asked of what he'd been doing, Aegon explained to the gathered lords and knights of how he had used magic to travel to a far away land. Lilith had instructed him to oversee a battle taking place somewhere far from Westeros. He regaled them with the tale of the battle for the Kingdom under the Mountain.

Many were surprised to hear of the army of dwarves, and how Aegon described them. People who were nothing like the dwarfs found around these parts. The dwarves he'd seen were stout men, hardened and muscular, clad in thick armor. They were powerful warriors and hardy fighters. He told them of the elves, and even gestured to Tauriel who was standing as far out of sight as she could. It took some time for people to begin noticing her pointed ears. Aegon explained how Tauriel had been a part of a group of Elves and Dwarves that had attacked the overlook where he'd overseen the battle, and how he had taken Tauriel as a prisoner.

When questioned about whether or not she posed a danger, Aegon simply shook his head and offered a her a look. "She gave me her word that she wouldn't cause me any problems, even swore to me that she would willing serve me in exchange for her life. She gave me her word, isn't that right, Tauriel?" He directed at her.

Tauriel felt the unbidden command, as the pain in her neck began to grow.

"That is right, your Grace." She offered, with a cold nod.

Several looks were shared, but it seemed that Aegon had her under control.

Aegon continued his story, telling them how the battle was nearly won by Lilith's soldiers when Giant Eagles fell out of the sky, swooping down and crushing dozens of orcs in their massive talons. If it hadn't been for these creatures, Lilith's forces would have won the day, easily. He didn't tell them about the second army, nor did he mention that Smaug was there. Some people even mentioned it, asking if these eagles could have been killed by the dragons. Aegon replied that he was sure they could have been, but there was a lot of them there, over three dozen at least.

Hearing that, Lilith pieced together why Aegon had no doubt chosen to flee from the battle along with Smaug. That many eagles working together was an absolute nightmare to deal with. Perhaps is Aegon had unleashed his power at the time and fought alongside Smaug, they could have dealt with many of the eagles, but in the end, the Mountain was ultimately worth it. Smaug was far more valuable to her than the Lonely Mountain, or it's riches, and it seems that Aegon had found something even more valuable as well. His Ring. She definitely intended to ask him about that, as soon as they were alone.

"Before we end the feast, there is a gift I would like to bestow upon my intended. Taken from the enemy during the battle. Given the loss of her forces, I am certain that she is in need of some reassurances. This great gift was taken from the leader of the host of men who fought during the battle. A jewel of magnificence that represents the unity of and power of the Dwarven people. The Arkenstone!" Aegon said to the crowd, drawing forth the stone from his pocket and revealing it to the crowd.

Cries of astonishment and amazement went up from the surrounding people as they gazed at the glittering jewel.

"My Lady, The Heart of the Mountain." Aegon stated, offering Lilith the stone.

The Dark Lady stared at the jewel, taking in it's beauty and magnificence. She slowly reached out, taking the jewel in her hands. She held it gently for several long moments, relishing in it's beauty.

"I thank you, my beloved Aegon. This gift will surely balm the wound to my pride form this loss. Your courage and valor in taking it from my enemies is to be commended. I will cherish it, and hold it dear." Lilith thanked him. She had always enjoyed shiny jewels, and this, well this was the closest she'd seen yet that could compare to the true majesty of the Silmarils. The Arkenstone was a fair second, and a jewel she would cherish in the days to come. The only question was, how to go about displaying it.

As the feast continued, Lilith pondered ideas for the Arkenstone, while Aegon discussed with Robb and Edmure the note that had been received from the Tyrells. He agreed that it could possibly be a trap, but that they may also be desperate to prevent a war in their kingdom. He decided that when the time came he and Lilith would fly out to Bitterbridge with the Nazgûl, and meet with the Tyrells. If it was a trap, they'd have three dragons there, plus the Five Nazgûl that were with them, on their fellbeasts.

One way to counter an ambush, was with overwhelming force.

Robb and Edmure agreed with his logic. After all, if this worked out, they could secure the Reach and gain it's armies without a need for battle, which would mean their conquest would get much easier.

Towards the end of the feast, Aegon spent a few moments talking with Arya, regaling her with his adventure, as well as speaking with Sansa, though strangely, he noticed that she had a difficult time meeting his gaze. When he asked Lilith if she knew what that was about, she mentioned that she'd recently been bonding with Sansa, and may have mentioned certain 'assets' of his.

Aegon couldn't help but laugh at that, and soon after, the feast ended.

After the feast, Aegon showed Tauriel where her room was. It was a small quaint room, just outside of the wing of the keep, where the lord's slept. Once she was shown where her room was, Aegon directed her to follow him to where he and Lilith were staying.

Tauriel followed, subserviently, fear in her eyes, and her body tense. They arrived at the bedroom to find Lilith already there waiting.

She eyed Tauriel curiously as Aegon led her in and shut the door behind her.

"Take off those clothes, it should be plenty warm enough here." Aegon commanded, as he shared a glance with Lilith.

"So… more than just a political prisoner?" Lilith noted, a smirk touching at her lips.

"Yes. Much more. This is Tauriel, your new body slave. A Silvan elf, from the Woodland realm." Aegon expressed to her as Tauriel finished removed her clothes, save for her silk gown.

Lilith's smirk grew at that as she motioned for Tauriel to come closer.

For a moment, Tauriel hesitated, when, to her her surprise, she felt a burning pain begin to spread through her collar.

"My beloved Lilith has as much control over you as I do." Aegon stated, letting out a cruel chuckle.

Taking in a breath, Tauriel approached, as she did, she noticed a glow begin to surround Lilith, her already impressive beauty seemed to radiate brighter, and Tauriel felt her heart skip a beat.

Lilith was currently sitting on the edge of the bed, and as Tauriel drew closer, her smile grew more intimidating.

Once she was right before Lilith, Tauriel stopped. Lilith rose to her feet, and the two were standing mere inches from one another.

Lilith reached out, placing her hands on the clasp that held Tauriel's gown on. She undid it, and guided the gown down and off her body.

Tauriel didn't resist, to afraid of the Dark Lord taking over her body and using it for whatever he wanted, to attempt any refusal.

"Did Aegon tell you who I am? Do you know who he really is?" Lilith asked as Tauriel's gown fell to the floor.

"You may answer honestly." Aegon stated.

"He is the Dark Lord Sauron. He called you his beloved." Tauriel responded, arms stuck at her sides, naked as the day she was born.

"But he didn't mention who I really was? Shame on you Aegon." Lilith pouted, earning a chuckle from her beloved.

"I do know how you like to make an entrance. And it's been so long since you had the chance to torment an elf. I thought this would be the perfect gift for you." Aegon replied.

"Well, she isn't Ñoldor, which is a bit disappointing, but, to be fair, I may be a little out of practice, so a little Silvan elf will be good for me to work out the kinks." Lilith responded as she ran her eyes over Tauriel's body.

The Elven huntress was quite lovely. She was tall, and thin, long red hair, with a patch similar covered pubes, which stood out against her pale skin. She had decent curves, in the hips, butt, and breasts, all in all, a typical elven beauty. In truth, she was rather average, by Elven standards, but she was definitely beautiful in comparison to human women.

"Well then, we should get introductions out of the way. I wouldn't want my personal slave to not know who I am. That would just be redundant. A body slave should know their master better than almost anyone. So Tauriel, my name is Lilith. In this bedroom, you will call me master. Outside of it, you will address me as My Queen, Your Grace, My Lady, whichever you so desire." Lilith began.

"Yes, Master…" Tauriel replied, her voice coming out as a shaking quiver.

Lilith grinned, a pulled Tauriel into a lustful kiss, surprising the elf who froze at first before feeling her body begin to react to the kiss.

To her surprise, it felt good, very good. Lilith tasted sweet, and as her scent filled Tauriel's nostrils, she couldn't help but note that the smell made her feel comfortable, warm even.

Without realizing it, she felt herself kissing Lilith back, and when Lilith pulled away, Tauriel momentarily followed her before pulling back as well, surprise flashing across her face.

A sinking feeling welled up in her gut, as Tauriel realized that Lilith was doing something to her. Some sort of magic was manipulating her.

"Come now Tauriel, no need to worry. I'm not going to hurt you. I'll show you such pleasures as you would never even dream of. I'll show you bliss the likes of which that old fool Eru, couldn't hope to replicate." Lilith smirked. Grabbing Tauriel and throwing her onto the bed, Lilith shrugged off her gown, and stood over the terrified elf.

"You should know, I had another name your creator gave me long ago. A name I was given when I rebelled and broke free from his manipulations. A name I was given when I set fire to his creation and smashed it to little pieces." Lilith growled down at her, excitement building in her eyes as they began to glow a hellish orange.

"No…" Tauriel uttered, as tears began to build in her eyes. What this woman was insinuating wasn't possible. She couldn't be who she was claiming to be.

"I. Am. Morgoth." Lilith declared before jumping on top of the elven huntress and pinning her arms to the bed. She then slammed her lips into Tauriel's kissing her roughly and using her magics to assault the elven woman with pleasure and excitement.

Aegon, by now had removed his clothes and approached the two. Climbing onto the bed, and taking Lilith's hips, he positioned himself at her entrance.

Lilith paused in her assault on Tauriel's lips and glanced over her shoulder at Aegon. He smirked down at her and pushed his length into her waiting sex, earning a loud moan from the Lady of Darkness. She turned her gaze back to Tauriel, who was breathing heavily and appeared drunk from pleasure, her eyes glazed over as the overwhelming potency of Lilith's power, washed over her.

Lilith smirked and let out another moan, before releasing Tauriel's arms and grabbing her body to move her up a bit, allowing Lilith access to Tauriel's breasts.

A soft moan escaped from Tauriel's lips as Lilith began to roughly kiss, suck, and bite at her breasts and nipples. As she continued with Tauriel's breasts, she shifted herself so that she could slide a hand down between Tauriel's legs. As her hand passed over her pubes, Tauriel clamped her legs together, trying to halt her advance.

Lilith pulled free from one of Tauriel's nipples, releasing the sensitive teat from her lips with an audible pop as she glanced up at Tauriel and smirked devilishly.

Lilith leaned up, settling into Aegon's embrace as he continued to fuck her, his hands encircling her, cupping her breasts.

"She's scared." Lilith teased.

"Of course she is, you and I are the manifestation of evil, and we've about to fuck her senseless. She'd be insane if she wasn't scared." Lilith let out a laugh at his response, her laughter quickly turning into playful giggles as he teased at her nipples, pulling them and kissing at her neck.

"Well, best not to disappoint her." Lilith responded as she reached down and grabbed Tauriel's hips. She lifted the elf's lower half up off the bed, and pushed her forward, scooting her further up the bed, so that Lilith could drop down to all fours, her head now positioned right over Tauriel's sex.

"It's been a while since I asked, and maybe the Woodland realms have adopted more human activities, but how familiar are you with concept of going down on someone?" Lilith asked, earning a laugh from Aegon, while Tauriel didn't answer.

Lilith simply let out a chuckle and grabbed Tauriel's thighs. She then released a stinging hex from both her hands causing Tauriel's to let out a yelp and kick with her legs, the action caused her muscles to loosen up enough for Lilith to easily keep her legs parted, and lower her head between them.

Tauriel's eyes went wide as she saw what Lilith was going to do and soon enough a throat moan escaped her lips, as she felt Lilith run her tongue along her opening.

She felt Lilith kiss at her entrance, which caused Tauriel to let out another moan of pleasure.

Lilith continued to work on the elf's pussy for several long moments, occasionally moaning which would send shivers up Tauriel's spine. Soon enough Lilith could feel her own pleasure growing as Aegon leaned over her, playing with her clit as he fucked her.

This caused her to change tactics, resting her head on the inside of one of Tauriel's thighs and kissing and sucking on her clit, while proceeding to use two fingers to fuck her slave's cunt.

Within minutes she had Tauriel cumming her cries of pleasure filling the room.

As Tauriel shook from the throws of orgasm, Lilith placed a kiss on her pussy, and sat up, removing herself from Aegon's cock. Aegon than moved and sat beside Tauriel, Lilith sitting on his lap, putting his cock back inside of her as she hugged his head to her breasts, the two of them glancing down at Tauriel as they continued with their fun.

"Do you like her?" Aegon asked.

"She has some fight…" Lilith responded.

Tauriel let out a heavy breath as she stared up at the ceiling. Her legs were still shaking from the intense pleasure she had just experienced.

"Tauriel, devote my actions to memory. I'll give you a few days to learn, I'll teach you how to pleasure a woman, so pay attention." Lilith commanded, earning a slow nod from Tauriel.

With great effort, Tauriel sat up, and wiped the wetness from her eyes. Once she did, she turned her gaze towards the two lovers. Both were glanced at her even as they continued to fuck.

Lilith smirked and motioned her over. This time, Tauriel didn't hesitate, she slowly crawled over to them, Aegon reached out grabbing her butt with one of his hands, while Lilith reached out, taking the back of Tauriel's head and pulling her into a kiss. Tauriel, returned it, her actions sloppy, amateur, but with intent.

As Lilith pulled back, she smiled, a let out a moan, she then turned her attention back to Aegon and began to move faster, her release quickly approaching.

Lilith came first, with Aegon following soon afterwards, the two lovers meeting in an intense and lustful kiss as Aegon filled Lilith's depths with his seed. The two then held each other for several long moments, recuperating, when Lilith began to wiggle her hips, enticing him to keep going.

He smirked at her, grabbing her hips and lifting her off of his lip, only to let her fall back onto it. The two continued like that for several moments before recalling the presence of their spectator.

Both turned their gazes towards Tauriel who was watching them.

"You still wanna play?" Lilith inquired, meeting Tauriel's gaze and releasing her own allure.

Tauriel seemed to almost whine at the radiant sight of Lilith but in the end she nodded.

Lilith smiled and shared a glance with Aegon who raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

"I think I'm gonna like her." Lilith said to him as she shifted herself and laid down on the bed. Aegon shifted as well, now hovering over her, where he resumed his thrusting.

Lilith let out a sigh of pleasure and motioned Tauriel over to her.

Tauriel did as commanded and crawled over beside Lilith.

"Sit on my face, facing Aegon." Lilith commanded. Tauriel stared down at her for a moment before complying. She did as she was told and felt Lilith grab her hips and resumed eating her out. She locked eyes with Aegon and let out a pitiful moan of pleasure. He smirked at her, his eyes beginning to glow.

Tauriel closed her eyes at the sight, as she felt his hand slide around her head. She was pulled into a passionate kiss with the Dark Lord, as his Dark Master, ate out her pussy. Thoughts of escape, or rebellion were quickly fading, this was her fate now, this was what she was now, a slave to the Lords of Darkness. If she wanted to maintain control over her own body, she had to do what she was told, and the only way she could maintain her sanity was by trying to find something redeeming in her torture. Right now the only thing she had was pleasure, so that would be it. That would be what she held onto for sanity's sake.

With in mind, she wrapped her arms around Aegon's head and began kissing him back with far more passion. It was best to enjoy this while she could. She never knew when the two would grow tired of her, or decide they wanted her torment to become something far worse. If being a willing bed slave to their perversions kept her alive, than she'd do it, if learning to enjoy it, kept her sane, that would be what had to happen.

One day, she would see her homeland again, she just hoped that when the day came, she was still Tauriel, and not something far more twisted.

**-To Be Continued-**

**Alright there you go, hope you all enjoyed, Comments section time.**

**FuZZyloGiC00007:**** Thanks, and I will.**

**Ezylryb:**** Thanks!**

**GiantPsychoGecko:**** Yes, he'll definitely be getting a power-up. :)**

**DBZx Skyfall:**** Thanks! I appreciate it.**

**godisme:**** Yep, Tauriel gets to join in on the fun. True in all regards, it's gonna be interesting. And yeah, Sauron could use his real name in Westoros and he will eventually, he only uses Aegon right now because it's a useful name to throw around, it opens doors as it were, but he'll begin to slowly spread his true name to his followers and than beyond.**

**38Solaire38:**** Yep, she's definitely going to be pleased.**

**darth Queidus:**** Thanks, and yeah that would be a cool little crossover story, maybe as an omake for Broken Angel, definitely something to think about. Yeah I enjoy stories like that too, sometimes evil should win. Remember, 'Evil will always triumph because good is dumb.'**

**Cjthedvall:**** K, here you go.**

**Blacked6666:**** Thank you, I appreciate your approval.**

**naruto: Me neither, it's gonna be fun.**

**Seraphina Nova Black:**** No problem, happy to answer any questions or concerns.**

**KingZeRoPL:**** I'm sorry for your breakup. :(**

**Mr2Legit2Quit95:**** Oh yeah, he's a right bastard. Up there with Joffrey for how much I want him dead in the show and the books.**

**Lord of Erebor:**** Thanks, I appreciate the praise.**

**Black Magic99:**** They might be, depends on where the story goes.**

**Chaosmar18:**** Yep, it's a pyrrhic victory for them. They are most certainly not ready for what's coming.**

**LeoMadara:**** Here you go, hope the waiting wasn't to bad.**

**BlueDensity:**** Don't worry, you didn't sound whiny or aggressive, I can understand where you were coming from. Until the entire story is out, you can't really know how the author is seeing or thinking of everything at the time. You don't know what I have planned or how the story will go, and unless I specifically drop hints or foreshadow certain events, I can't expect you to know what I'm thinking or how I'm seeing things, so it's no worries from me. I'm happy to address your concerns, and I hope you continue to enjoy.**

**Trinity seven:**** Happy to hear it, will definitely enjoy it. Ooh, I wonder what the reaction of the Dothraki would be to a Mumakil? 0.0**

**FunkyRooster:****Yep it's gonna be a cool reaction. Hmm… now that would be interesting. Aegon hearing about how they're planning a quest to take the fake ring to Mount Doom, now that would surely open the door to some fun and interesting possibilities.**

**Eternal Tortoise:**** I hope you got my reply, but I'll reiterate that that's a very good idea. No doubt it'll be something they can focus on in the future. We've seen that they can turn horses in canon, the Children are in hiding and probably avoiding Lilith like she was the plague and there is only a handful of them left, but the Weirwoods do offer me many interesting ideas. So thanks of the suggestion.**

**Scarlet Nerd:****Thanks for all the praise, I really appreciate it. Happy to hear you're enjoying the story and I hope you continued to enjoy the future chapters.**

**ValteriaBiggles:**** Well there is a major disproportion in power when you consider that the west has all of the Maiar, the Valar, and Eru on their side, and also that the Elves can actually infinitely respawn. Basically if they wanted to, every elf that is killed and sent to the Halls of Mandos could be reembodied and sent back to Middle-Earth, so unless they are corrupted or turned against the Valar, the Elves can just keep coming back. That's one thing that's majorly broken on the West's side and could even out the power levels. With that in mind, there are also other crossovers sections that I plan on doing so we'll get to see a lot of changes moving forward. I hope that wasn't too vague but trust that I have a few ideas to keep the balance of power, relatively interesting.**

**Guest:**** Here you go, hope you enjoy.**

**dragon slayer of death 98:**** Ooh devious, hope you enjoy what's to come.**

**Tacomaster05:**** Sorry you feel that way, the story had to go a certain way because of where I'm leading it, and also I always intended for this story to follow both of them as Main Characters, I do realize that Lilith hasn't had a lot to do in recent chapters which was kinda forced by the constraints of the narrative, but I'm focusing on her far more as the story goes on. Happy you like Broken Angel though.**

**TekamanBlade:**** Thanks**

**Yuki:**** Will do, and thanks**

**Dedeec156:**** Thanks, here you go!**

**Hunter 1:**** Sorry it's so late, Writer's block is a bitch, here you go.**

**Crimsonblade257:**** Yep, more focus on Lilith going forward, I had her doing quite a bit here in this chapter, and will be having her take more of a leading roll going forward.**

**PristinelyUngifted:**** Thanks I hope you enjoy.**


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